


The Mapmakers

by Dizzy_Bird



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1970s, Adventure, Canon Compliant, Eventual Jily - Freeform, Eventual Wolfstar - Freeform, F/M, First War with Voldemort, Friendship, Gen, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Friendship, Marauders' Era, Mostly Gen, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), POV James Potter, POV Lily Evans Potter, POV Multiple, POV Severus Snape, POV Sirius Black, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, The Wolfstar is mostly pining and angst though, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-28 10:37:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 76,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14447502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dizzy_Bird/pseuds/Dizzy_Bird
Summary: It's 1975 and Whoever-He-Is has turned his eyes towards Hogwarts.Muggle-born Lily Evans is certain her best friend has been recruited by the Death Eaters. She's less certain about her future in Wizarding Britain. And she has absolutely no idea how to handle the dark-haired, outrageously privileged, obnoxiously talented toerag named James Potter.A canon-compliant account of the first Wizarding War and the teenagers who fought in it.





	1. Cupid and Curses

"Alright," said James Potter as he slapped his hands on the Gryffindor table during breakfast. The Great Hall was even noisier than usual, with roses the size of serving dishes floating in the air above them and owls swooping from table to table, pink and red envelopes clutched in their beaks. "We are  _so close_  to the full moon, so I am going to be  _very_  disappointed if one of us mucks things up today just because he wants to spend Valentine's snogging Daisy Hookum at Madam Puddifoot's—"

"James," replied a handsome, dark-haired boy, his features contorting as he tried his best to look offended, "surely you're not insinuating that one of us would ruin months — no, years — of hard work, because we'd rather get off with  _Daisy Hookum_?"

"That's exactly what I'm insinuating," growled James. He helped himself to some pumpkin juice, which had been dyed pink for the occasion. "I mean it, Sirius. I'm sick of keeping this stupid leaf in my mouth all the time, and we're so close to being done, so if Daisy Hookum swallows your leaf while you two are eating each other's faces, and we have to start the process over again —"

"She's not going to swallow my leaf," mumbled Sirius, his mouth full of bacon. "We've been trying for years, I know how to keep my leaf to myself. It's Peter you need to be worried about, he's the one who ruined it last month —"

"I had Dugbog disease!" protested Peter, the smallest of the group. "I'd like to see you try to keep a leaf in your mouth while violently puking five times a —"

"I don't see why you all have to do it at the same time," said Remus, a vaguely ill-appearing boy who looked as if he himself might have a touch of Dugbog disease. "If Sirius loses his leaf today, why don't you lot keep going without him, and he can catch up next month?"

James shook his head dismissively. "This is a team effort, Moony. As anyone who has tried to hold a leaf in their mouth day and night for a full month can tell you, it's really tedious work, and I'm afraid our dear mate Sirius might lack the, er,  _discipline_  to follow through if he doesn't have companionship while attempting such a feat."

"Guilty as charged," said Sirius with a grin, swallowing the last of his bacon somewhat delicately so as not to disturb the leaf tucked in the back of his mouth. One of the larger owls clipped a wing on an enormous floating rose and tumbled onto the Ravenclaw table, thoroughly ruining a student's breakfast. Sirius watched it with some interest before turning back towards James. "I'll be careful. Though I can't promise I won't give Daisy a few chaste pecks on the cheek if the opportunity arises..."

* * *

At the opposite end of the Great Hall, standing close to the entrance, a thin boy with sallow skin and lank black hair scanned the Gryffindor table warily, careful not to look towards the far end where James and his friends were sitting. Finally, he made eye contact with a pretty redheaded girl who smiled brightly at him. The girl stood up and grabbed a pair of croissants from one of the platters before bidding her girlfriends goodbye and making her way over to the boy. She handed him one of the croissants as the two left the Great Hall.

"You could have sat with us, you know," said the girl, Lily, tearing off a bit of croissant. "Nobody would have minded."

"You know that isn't true," replied the boy as they approached the great oak doors that led to the grounds of Hogwarts. "If Potter and his mates weren't at the table, maybe, but…"

"Severus," said Lily as the doors swung open of their own accord. "Don't be stupid."

"Not wanting to be hexed is stupid?"

"I mean don't be like everyone else." Lily waved her hand. "You magical folk are so concerned with segregating everyone into neat little boxes that never overlap. Can't sit at the Gryffindor table if you're a Slytherin! It's ridiculous."

"You're magical folk too, you know."

"Yeah, and I'm just saying. Muggle boarding schools are nowhere near as cliquey and uptight. It's not  _normal_."

"So go to a Muggle boarding school."

Lily looked at him disparagingly. "Or I could stay here and sit at whichever table I like and be the change I want to see in the world."

"The last time we sat together at the Slytherin table, Avery got revenge by jinxing Mary Macdonald," Severus reminded her. "She spoke Swahili for a week."

"I know," sighed Lily as they wound their way down the path to Hogsmeade. "It's hard to be the voice of change when other people take the fall for it."

 _Also, you're Muggle-born_ , Severus added silently. He knew the depths of discrimination that Muggle-borns faced, even if Lily wasn't fully aware of it yet. In theory, only the old pure-blood families cared about blood status, but the fact of the matter was that few Muggle-born witches and wizards occupied positions of importance in the Ministry, and fewer still were policymakers or members of the Wizengamot. It was the same everywhere — a Muggle-born could be a Mediwizard, but the chances of them becoming Healer-in-Charge of a ward at St. Mungo's were almost nonexistent. Lily was a formidable enough witch that she could bend social norms at Hogwarts without getting too much pushback for it, but she wasn't going to start a cultural revolution on her own.

He didn't say any of this out loud, though. What he said instead was, "I've invented a new spell."

"You're changing the subject," said Lily, but she was smiling. "What's it do?"

"It's a Valentine's Day hex." Severus smirked slightly. "Point your wand at a person who's snogging someone else, make a motion like you're drawing a heart — clockwise, obviously — and say  _Vomihominis_. The snogger's lips should grow a number of  _unsightly_  boils."

"That's horrible," said Lily, laughing. "Can you imagine kissing someone, and then feeling…? Eurgh! Very clever, though, recreating a Muggle disease…"

"I thought so," said Severus smugly.

* * *

Daisy Hookum was a pretty blonde Hufflepuff with thick fringe and a shaggy haircut reminiscent of a certain American film star. Sirius Black loved Muggle film stars.

"Well, Daisy," he said, checking his watch as their date in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop drew to a close, "this has been great, but I need to run to Pippin's to pick up a few things I've ordered. Want to come with?"

"Ooh, yes, please," said Daisy, and she leaned across the chintzy white table to press her lips against his. Sirius kept his mouth firmly shut while kissing her, but that had nothing to do with the fact that Daisy didn't understand words that contained more than two syllables. It was solely to protect his leaf. At least, that was what he told himself.

After a moment or so, Daisy drew back and they both stood up. Sirius dropped a few Sickles on the table, and they left the shop holding hands. As they pushed their way through the bustling crowd and towards J. Pippin's Potions, Daisy chirped in his ear about her favourite Hogsmeade shops. "I love the Three Broomsticks, we should stop by for a Butterbeer after Pippin's. I could use something to warm me up, it's so cold out here!" She shivered for effect, blinking up at him.

Sirius, smiling, laid his arm around her and pulled her closer. "I might know a way to warm you up," he murmured, their noses almost touching. When they kissed, in the middle of the crowded street, he was almost able to enjoy the moment without focusing on his leaf. Daisy kissed him again, opening her mouth a little, and Sirius responded in kind when all of a sudden —

"Sirius… what —" started Daisy, drawing back. Several hard pustules, red and inflamed, had appeared on his lips, and her eyes widened as the boils grew. "What's wrong? Are you allergic? Is it  _me_?"

Sirius put his hand over his mouth and felt the lumps, the largest of which was as big as a Gobstone. He swore, and his leaf almost fell out. "Daisy — I..."

"It  _is_  me," said Daisy, and her eyes filled with tears. "We kissed, and — and — oh Sirius, I'm so sorry!"

"I don't — I really don't think it was your fault," mumbled Sirius. It was becoming quite difficult to talk with both a leaf in his mouth and grossly misshapen lips. His grey eyes swept the busy street, narrowing as he noticed a small, dark-haired figure ducking into the Three Broomsticks.

"We have to get you to the Hospital Wing!" sobbed Daisy as she tugged on his arm. Several of the students passing by were beginning to stare.

"Daisy, no — just give me a moment..." Sirius grabbed her hand and dragged her into the nearest alley. Reaching into his robes, he pulled out a small, square mirror. "James Potter!" he said, and his reflection vanished, replaced by James' face. Wherever James was, it was so dark that his brown skin and untidy black hair were barely distinguishable from his surroundings, though if Sirius squinted he could just make out a cluster of trees in the background.

"Merlin's pants," said James, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Bad date, eh?"

This made Daisy cry harder.

"Very funny," said Sirius. "I think our little Slytherin pal might have had a hand in this, but listen. I'm gonna head back up to the castle and sort my face out, alright? You'll have to come down here and pick up the… our order from Pippin's." He shot a glance at Daisy.

"I'm kind of in the middle of something," James said in a tone indicating that Sirius should know what he was talking about. "Why don't you just  _Finite incantatum_  whatever hex Snivellus put on you and continue on your date —"

"He's allergic to me!" cried Daisy. "It's not a hex, it's because I kissed him, he needs Madam Pomfrey—"

"That's why, you twat," muttered Sirius.

James raised his eyebrows. "I keep telling you Hufflepuff girls are dimmer than a bag of gnomes," he said. "Fine. Let Poppy put your girl's mind at ease. I'll be down in a bit to pick up the package."

Sirius nodded, and James' face faded. He stuffed the mirror back into his pocket and sauntered out of the ally. Behind him, Daisy struggled to keep up as he strode towards the castle.

At least he still had his leaf.

* * *

James tucked the two-way mirror back into the pocket of his robes and stretched, looking around. He was standing at the edge of a clearing in the Forbidden Forest, deep enough into the woods that hardly any light filtered down through the canopy of ancient trees, which gave the clearing the look of perpetual dusk.

James was quite proud of what he had done to the clearing. First off, it wasn't exactly easy to find a place where dew could form untouched by both sunlight and human feet, much less in the middle of winter, when dew seldom formed at all. A rather powerful Atmospheric Charm ensured that the clearing stayed at the proper temperature and humidity for dew formation regardless of the weather, and a self-sustaining Nox Charm kept the area properly dark at all times. He had even — and this was what he was proudest of, for it was a tricky bit of magic — bound a Homonculous Charm to a ring that he wore on his finger, which would burn if anyone happened upon the clearing.

The end result of all this was that James had collected several teaspoons of untouched silver dew, which he stored in a small decanter made of black glass. With a wave of his wand, he undid the Atmospheric and Nox Charms. The air became several degrees cooler and his surroundings brightened as he picked his cloak off a tree branch and tossed it around his shoulders. He vanished at once, and the clearing lay still and silent.

James trekked through the forest as quickly as he could without making too much noise. Of course, the Forbidden Forest wasn't nearly as frightening when you had an Invisibility Cloak, as nothing was likely to bother you, but even so, he didn't like to overstay his welcome.

Luck was on his side today, though; as he picked through the thick undergrowth, the most menacing creatures he encountered were a couple of Bowtruckles fighting over an elm tree. He emerged near Hagrid's hut, pausing just long enough to stuff the Cloak into his bag before following the winding path to Hogsmeade.

Just as he had expected, the streets of Hogsmeade were lined with students holding hands and cuddling up to one another as if it was frightfully cold instead of a mild winter's day. Even the most hateful of the Slytherins seemed to be paired off; Wilfred Wilkes was nuzzling a girl who looked to be at least part hag.

James shuddered as he pushed open the door to J. Pippin's Potions. Even the shop was crowded, so he joined the queue for the front counter, standing behind a girl with shoulder-length red hair.

"Evans?"

The girl turned, raising her eyebrows and smiling a little. "Potter?" she mimicked, using the same incredulous tone he had.

"What are you doing here?" He cringed inwardly at what a stupid question that was.  _Probably buying potions ingredients, same as you, you idiot._

"Well," said Lily seriously, "I've been trying to brew Felix Felicis so I can pass my O.W.L.s, but I can't seem to grind my Occamy eggshells finely enough, so I'm here to get more. You?"

James grinned. "I've been carrying a Mandrake leaf around in my mouth for months so I can become an Animagus. I just need to pick up the last ingredients for the potion."

"Good one," said Lily, the corners of her mouth twitching. "Slightly less believable than mine, though."

"Give me a break, you're brilliant," said James. "You could pass your O.W.L.s in your sleep."

"True." Lily's emerald eyes were sparkling. "You're a meathead compared to me. Honestly, your Animagus form is probably just yourself."

James laughed, but before he could respond, the bell on the door of the shop jingled, and a thickset Slytherin fifth year walked in. With his broad shoulders, powerful jaw, and small, blue eyes, he vaguely resembled a pit bull. James and Lily looked at each other.

"Speaking of unbelievable…" muttered James. "What's Mulciber doing here without his gang? I didn't know he even knew what a potion  _was_ …"

"Oh, stop," said Lily, and she sounded less playful now. "He's minding his own business, please don't start any Gryffindor-Slytherin drama in here…"

James raised his eyebrows. "Start? I think your pal Snape was the one who  _started_  something earlier, so don't blame me for wanting payback. Where's your little friend, anyway? Why isn't he with you?"

"He's busy." Lily bit her lip and looked away.

"Busy sucking up to some Death Eaters in training like the rest of his house?"

"Stop it," said Lily as they moved forward in the queue. "He's not like them, and you're just looking for a fight…"

"I'm the one looking for a fight? I'm not the one who hexed Sirius completely unprovoked this morning—"

"Are you  _actually_  angry about that?" said Lily, blinking up at him. Her eyes were more than a little distracting.

"Of course I'm angry! He's my best mate!"

"Oh, come on," said Lily, and her lip twitched again. "It was just a stupid jinx. I actually think Sev did Sirius a favour. Imagine having to spend _all day_  with Daisy Hookum…"

James snorted in spite of himself. "Look, Daisy's a nice girl —"

"She gets a T in History of Magic  _every year_. I don't even know how that's possible, seeing as Binns grades us randomly."

"Okay, but my point still stands —"

"What point?" asked Lily, hands on her hips. "That you don't like Severus?"

"That he hexed my friend!"

"So now you're going to hex Mulciber? That's just stupid, they're not even mates —"

"Lover's quarrel?" interrupted a voice behind them. Mulciber had joined them in the queue.

"No," began Lily, but James cut her off.

"Butt out, Mulciber," he growled.

Mulciber raised his eyebrows. "Fine by me," he said smoothly. "Just looking out for you, Potter."

"You?" said James incredulously. "Looking out for  _me_?"

"Times are changing, Potter," said Mulciber calmly. "House rivalries are fine for first years, but the world is moving beyond that. Soon, it will be blood status that brings us together… or not," he added, jerking his chin towards Lily, who reddened but stood her ground.

"Is that really the best you can do?" she asked. "Make vague threats because I'm Muggle-born? How original. I feel  _awfully_  frightened now. And  _you_ ," she said, addressing James, " _Don't_  get into it with him just because it makes you feel gallant to defend me when we all know you've been itching for a fight ever since he walked in here!"

She turned her back on both of them and gave a little start as she realized she was at the front counter. "And I'll take three scoops of African sea salt and a handful of rue," she snapped at the shopkeeper, who had been watching the exchange with his mouth slightly open.

"Lily…" said James as she slapped a few Sickles onto the counter, but she cut him off.

"No, I don't want to hear it! It's Valentine's Day, and I want to have a nice afternoon in Hogsmeade without you ruining my peace!" And with that, she snatched the small paper bag from the hapless shopkeeper and marched out of the shop. The bell on the door clanged behind her.

"Well," said Mulciber after a moment, "turns out you didn't need my help getting rid of her after all —"

And that was when James hexed him.

* * *

Inside the Three Broomsticks, Severus Snape sat at the end of a corner booth, surrounded by housemates who were busy sucking up to a Death Eater in training.

"Is it true that the Dark Lord has been recruiting werewolves?" Emma Vanity asked Lucius Malfoy breathlessly. Lucius, a boy in his early twenties with straight, shoulder-length blonde hair, smiled and raised his eyebrows knowingly, but he refrained from answering Emma's question. Beside him, a beautiful, dark-haired girl rolled her eyes. Severus recognized her — she was a seventh year, one of the Black sisters — but had never spoken to her. Despite this, he found her obvious disdain for everyone present strangely endearing.

"Have you — have you got the Mark?" babbled Avery, but before Lucius could respond, Emma cut him off.

"Don't be ridiculous, everyone knows the Mark's just a story —"

"It is  _not_ , there was a drawing of it in the  _Prophet_  last week…"

"And you think that Muggle-loving drivel is a reliable source of information?"

"Break it up, children," said Mulciber. He slid into the booth to sit beside Severus, who glowered and moved closer to Avery. The table was getting uncomfortably crowded now. Mulciber looked at Lucius, and something unspoken passed between the two.

"You're late," said Lucius.

"I was held up," replied Mulciber evenly. "A certain Gryffindor Quidditch captain thought it would be great fun to practice duelling in the middle of Pippin's." He nudged Severus, who didn't respond.

"Well, now that you've decided to join us, we can get started." Lucius' eyes swept across the table. "As a few of you already know, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named requires…  _information_  about the goings-on at Hogwarts. Seeing as it's imprudent for him to enter the castle himself" — a few students snickered at that — "he has asked me to recruit a handful of  _trustworthy_  students to be his eyes and ears at Hogwarts."

"Why's he interested in Hogwarts? Sir?" asked Emma Vanity, and Lucius looked at her.

"That," he said, "is information only those who are chosen need to know."

Emma shrank back in her seat a bit, and the beautiful girl beside Lucius, who up until this point had looked utterly bored with the whole thing, spoke up, sounding as if she was reading off a cue card. "And what does one have to do to prove they are trustworthy, Lucius?"

"I'm glad you asked, Bella," replied Lucius. "As it happens, the Dark Lord quite trusts my judgement on the matter. This afternoon has been quite enlightening, and those who I select should await my owl." He gave her the same significant look he had given Mulciber, and then his gaze slid across the booth to Severus. The gesture was not lost on Avery.

"Snape? You're not thinking of choosing  _him_ , are you? He's… he's not even a pure-blood, and he spends all his time with that Mudblood girl —"

"The Dark Lord decides who is and isn't a pure-blood," interrupted Lucius, but he looked questioningly at Severus now. "Do you have anything to say about your relationship with your Mudblood friend?"

Severus' flat black eyes met Lucius' grey ones. "Slytherins tend to keep to their own," he said. "But an inter-house partnership means I can learn things others cannot."

Lucius nodded slowly. "Just as I thought," he said. "I will speak to the Dark Lord, but I think he will agree we may have use for a spy."

* * *

"Detention?!" roared Sirius. It was evening as the four friends sprawled on the couches by the hearth in the Gryffindor common room, and his outburst caused a few nearby first years to jump. "I spent all bloody day specifically  _not snogging_  Daisy Hookum so that your bloody leaf scheme goes off according to plan, and now you're telling me that you won't even be able to make it tomorrow night because you got DETENTION? Because you were showing off in front of  _her_?"

"That's basically what happened, yeah," admitted James. He ran his hand through his hair, his fingers snagging on his untidy curls.

"I thought you spent all day not snogging Daisy because Snape cursed your lips off," said Remus pleasantly, as if offering a helpful correction. Sirius glared at him before turning back to James, who held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Relax, Sirius," he said. "It'll be fine. We'll have all night to do it, we'll just have to go out a little later than originally planned. Which works in our favour anyway, as the later we wait, the less teachers and prefects will be roaming the halls."

"They'll be short a prefect tomorrow anyway," Peter pointed out with a glance at Remus. "Seeing as Moony's gonna be… busy…"

Remus's smile flickered slightly, but then he grinned at Sirius, who was still scowling. "Yeah, I thought I'd do you lot a favour by buggering off for a day or two. Give you some time to make mischief and taunt a certain greaseball Slytherin without suffering my disapproval."

A corner of Sirius' mouth lifted. "You know what's funny about that hex Snivellus hit me with?" he asked. "I actually  _couldn't_  reverse it with  _Finite incantatum_ , I tried after I got rid of Dai — I mean, after Daisy and I parted ways…"

"Amicably, I hope," said Remus, his eyes wide. Peter sniggered.

"Shut up, Moony," said Sirius, but he was smiling ruefully now. "No need to be jealous just because you spent Valentine's Day swapping spit with Peter —"

"Oh, no, I wouldn't risk the loss of my precious leaf on  _Moony_ ," said Peter. "Fabius Watkins, though, maybe…"

James snorted. "So you had to go see Poppy after all," he said, addressing Sirius, who nodded.

"Yeah, she'd never seen that particular pattern of boils before, so I had to try a couple of different potions before we found one that worked."

"Interesting," said James. "I guess that means it must have been one of Snivellus'… ah…  _inventions_."

"'Course it was," said Sirius darkly. "And I'm getting tired of being one of his test subjects, I'll tell you that much."

"Well," said Peter, "if he joins up with the Death Eaters — like we all know he will — he'll probably leave us alone in favour of hexing people whose blood status is a little more… ambiguous, if you know what I mean."

The other three looked at him.

"Way to bring the mood down, Pete," said James.

Just then, the portrait hole opened and Lily Evans entered the common room, accompanied by Marlene McKinnon and Mary MacDonald. They were still pink-faced from the cold, and they stamped their boots on the crimson rug as they walked towards the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories. Lily laughed at something Mary said, her eyes darting towards James. She met his gaze and her smile faded a little before she turned her head away, nose in the air. She chatted determinedly with Marlene as the trio made their way up the stairs.

"I see she wasn't dazzled by your chivalry," commented Sirius, following James' gaze. "Too bad, really. I know  _I'd_  have been impressed if you'd turned Mulciber's fingers into gherkins to defend  _my_  honour…"

"Dill pickles, actually," said James lightly as he turned his attention back towards the group. "Rather more complex than your average gherkin, but I digress."

"So are we agreed, then?" asked Peter, fidgeting in his seat. "We'll do it tomorrow night, after James' detention?"

"Fine by me," said Sirius, and James nodded. "We'll meet outside the common room, by the portrait of the Fat Lady."

Their plans set, the four chatted idly for a while longer until finally Remus stood up, yawning and announcing that he was going to bed. Peter followed him, leaving Sirius and James alone in front of the fire.

"Sorry about Lily, mate," said Sirius in a low voice.

James tried to shrug nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the flames crackling in the hearth. "Mulciber's a git."

"Of course he is."

"She thinks I'm a git, too."

"You  _are_  a git." Sirius slid off his armchair and onto his feet. "But that's part of your charm. She'll come around."

"Arsehole."

"Wanker."

They grinned at each other. With a wave of his wand, James extinguished the fire, throwing the common room into darkness, and they made their way up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Super excited to be posting my first fanfic! Updates will be on Wednesdays.
> 
> This fic will contain 3 stand-alone arcs for Hogwarts years 5, 6 and 7, similar to the original HP books. Year 5 starts in chapter 1 of course, and year 6 in chapter 13. Year 7 will begin in chapter 34 (eventually. Lol)
> 
> A few content warnings for 5th year: bullying, non-explicit mentions of child abuse, and the non-explicit outing of a queer student.
> 
> Comments and reviews are very welcome. I’d love to hear your opinions, especially your thoughts on characterization, plot, world-building… okay, all of it, really! Enjoy!


	2. The Bell of Merlin

The following afternoon, Lily noticed that Severus wasn't at lunch.

He wasn't in the library, either, or in the Charms classroom on the third floor where they usually met. She even ventured into the labyrinth-like dungeons in search of him and got as far as Dungeon Six, which contained only mirrors of varying shapes and sizes, before a group of Slytherins rounded the corner, forcing her to flee back to the Entrance Hall.

Just as she was about to give up, she heard whispers on the fifth floor, near the prefect's bathroom. She peeked around the corner and saw Severus standing in the middle of the corridor with Avery and Mulciber, deeply engrossed in conversation. Lily's heart sank, and she drew back before they could notice her. If she concentrated, she could just make out what they were saying.

"….told you, it's not…" muttered Severus.

Mulciber's voice was deeper than Severus' and more self-assured. "And I've told  _you_  that he doesn't give a damn what you…" His voice softened, and Lily couldn't hear the rest of his sentence. There was something in the way Mulciber said 'he' that sent a chill down her spine. Severus mumbled a reply, and Avery laughed.

"You  _would_  say that, Snape, but that's not for you to…"

Their voices grew louder as they approached Lily's end of the corridor. She looked around frantically, but there was nowhere to hide. The wall across from her was bare except for a few musty paintings, and —

_The Wandering Stairs!_  Lily could have jumped for joy. A brass doorknob was crammed between two portraits, jutting out from the stone. She turned the doorknob and the wall swung towards her. Inside was a cramped, twisting staircase, ascending with no end in sight. She slipped into the passageway and shut the door delicately behind her.

"Take me to the library," she told the empty staircase.

Immediately, there was a rumble, like the scraping of stone on stone, and the top of the staircase began to glow with a dim light. Lily took the stairs two at a time, nearly at a run, in case the Slytherins also noticed the doorknob in the corridor and decided to join her. She needn't have worried, though; she reached the top without incident and found herself facing a nondescript stone wall. Lily took a breath and stepped into the wall.

She came out the other side, between a row of bookcases in the library — the Herbology section, by the looks of it. Patches of grass sprung up between the wooden floorboards, and some of the books had sprouted long green vines. Turning around, she pressed her hand on the wall she had just walked through, but it didn't budge.

Lily grinned. A staircase that appeared randomly throughout the castle and took you exactly where you wanted to go? She  _loved_  being a witch.

In the next row over, the shelves were lined with books about magical plants of the Amazon, and she found an old, musty armchair beneath a couple of hanging boxwoods. Determined not to think about Severus — her Severus! — plotting with Avery and Mulciber, she curled up in the chair, pulled a slim Muggle novel from her bag, and began to read where she had left off.

An hour or so later, the soft sound of footsteps brought Lily out of her novel. She looked up, peering through the tendrils of the hanging plants. Severus was walking towards her, shuffling his feet on the carpet. He dipped his chin in greeting.

"Hi," she said warily, closing her book.

"Hi."

He sat on the floor and pulled a quill and his Potions book out of his bag as if he was intending on studying. As if he hadn't just been talking with Avery and Mulciber, two people she  _knew_  he couldn't stand. She watched him turn to a dog-eared page of his Potions text and scribble something in the margins, apparently engrossed in his own thoughts. Well, if he wasn't planning on bringing it up, she would.

"Where did you go in Hogsmeade yesterday?"

He paused, quill hovering over his book. "After we split up? Nowhere interesting. Cerdiwen's, Zonko's…"

"You didn't… meet up with anyone?"

He blinked, his beetle-dark eyes fixed on the pages of his Potions book. After a moment, he glanced at her. "Actually, yes. I went to the Three Broomsticks with some people from my House. Lucius was there. You should have seen the way my housemates were falling over themselves to get his attention, it was pathetic."

"What was Lucius doing at the Three Broomsticks?"

Severus shrugged. "Looking for an ego boost?"

"He's involved in Dark stuff, Sev, it was obvious even when he was still in school with us, and if you're getting drinks with him at the Three Broomsticks…"

"I did not  _get drinks_  with Lucius Malfoy," snapped Severus. "Obviously he's an arrogant bonehead with more hair than sense. But when you belong to Slytherin House, and Lucius Malfoy wants to speak with you, it's in your best interest to put aside any personal feelings and  _attend_."

"So you're just trying to keep the peace?"

"Trying and failing." Severus shut his textbook. "But that's not good enough for you, is it?"

"I just don't see why —"

"Why I can't just tell Lucius to leave me alone?" he hissed. "Because then not only will I have Potter and Black to contend with, but my own House too, and I don't know if you've noticed, but they're not exactly thrilled with me as is — "

"Why do you care so much what they think?" she asked, rather louder than she had intended. Hopefully Madam Pince, the librarian, couldn't hear. "Lucius is a  _Dark wizard_ , Sev, and if there's that much pressure in Slytherin to join up with his lot, then —"

"Then what?" he said, standing up. "Should I tell Dumbledore, and confirm his suspicions that Slytherin House is the root of all evil? Ask the Sorting Hat to reconsider me for Hufflepuff?"

"There has to be something— "

"There's nothing," he said flatly. "There's nothing I can do except keep my head down and remain neutral, and even  _that_  draws unwanted attention, both in my House and yours."

Severus couldn't conceal the hurt in his voice, and she almost believed he was telling the truth.

Almost.

"Were you even planning on telling me that you met with Lucius?" asked Lily. "Or were you hoping I wouldn't bring it up?"

The answer was written on his face. He glared at her, lips pressed into a thin line as though biting back a retort. Then he whirled on his heel and stormed out of the library.

_Good_ , Lily thought. _Leave. I don't care._  She looked down at the book she was holding and tried to summon the desire to open it back up and resume reading. The library felt too quiet all of a sudden. The Herbology section, which had seemed so lush before, smelled mouldy and damp, like rotting leaves. She stood with a sigh and slung her bag over her shoulder. She could always do some reading in the common room, she supposed.

* * *

Severus' oversized robes billowed behind him as he stalked through the dungeons. He nearly knocked over a pair of second years in his fury, but he didn't slow his pace. Lily had no idea what it was like to be him, to be continually mocked and underestimated and ostracized. It was so easy for her to lecture him about morality as if only she understood right and wrong. She was such a Gryffindor.

_And you're such a Slytherin._

He wanted to curse something.

He turned a corner and arrived at the bare stone wall. "Runespoor," he grunted, and the stones rearranged themselves, forming the dark passageway into the Slytherin common room. Excited voices echoed through the tunnel as he slunk into the common room. Inside, Mulciber and Avery were standing by the hearth, surrounded by students. Mulciber immediately looked up and crooked a finger at him. Severus sighed inwardly and joined the group by the fire.

"There he is!" exclaimed Avery. He draped an arm around Severus, who wondered idly how difficult it would be to sever Avery's arm at the shoulder. "The man of the hour. I trust you've had some time to think about our little chat earlier?"

Severus kept his eyes on Mulciber. "I have."

"And?" prompted Avery. Mulciber raised his eyebrows.

Severus hesitated. Lily had looked so disappointed, and she'd thought he'd merely rubbed shoulders with Lucius. If she'd known Lucius was recruiting… that he had wanted Severus…

But that was irrelevant, now.

"Fine," he said, and Avery let out a whoop. Some of the other students grinned, swapping knowing looks. "But this doesn't leave the common room."

"That goes without saying," said Mulciber with a smirk. "Alright, then. What have you got for us?"

Severus shrugged off Avery's arm with more force than was strictly necessary. "We'll start with something simple." He drew his wand. Avery looked like he was about to wet himself from excitement. "This spell de-bones vertebrates. It helps with brewing potions… in theory." A couple of students sniggered.

After Severus had satisfactorily demonstrated his curse on a pair of unfortunate mice and instructed the others on how to replicate the spell, the group began to disperse. Severus Vanished the remains of the mice and wiped his wand on his sleeve, a dour expression on his face. He hated revealing his inventions to others, but he needed Mulciber to report good things to Lucius. Unlike Mulciber and Avery, Severus' last name had no pedigree; he had to prove himself through his talents alone.

"What a waste," said a voice. He turned and saw the beautiful seventh year from the Three Broomsticks standing behind him, her wild, dark curls thrown up in a knot. "Being forced to share the spoils of your hard work and cleverness. Those imbeciles can't even  _begin_  to understand the ingenuity it took to create such a spell."

"They have no interest in understanding," muttered Severus. Across the room, Avery and Mulciber saluted him before climbing into the passageway that connected the common room with the dungeons.

Bella followed Severus' gaze. "Off to look for mice of their own, no doubt," she said lightly. She turned back to him and tilted her head to one side, thoughtful. "Would you like to have tea with me?"

"Not particularly."

"Will you come if I say please? I was headed to Dungeon Twelve before I noticed your little demonstration." She smiled at him, revealing a perfect row of square, white teeth. She was charming, and she knew it.

Severus figured he could use the company of someone he did not yet hate. "If you insist."

They left the Slytherin common room and began to walk deeper into the twisting dungeons. Side-by-side, it was obvious that Bella was much taller than him. She didn't seem interested in talking as they strode through the dungeons, and Severus certainly wasn't going to drive the conversation, so they walked in silence. Finally, at the end of a long corridor, they reached Dungeon Twelve.

Called the Fishbowl by younger, more impressionable Slytherins, Dungeon Twelve had the appearance of being entirely underwater. The walls were completely transparent, giving a clear view of the lake surrounding the dungeon. Even the floor and the ceiling were translucent, and a group of Grindylows glided languidly through the algae beneath Severus' feet. Above them, the last traces of sunset filtered through the surface of the lake, bathing the room in an eerie, shifting green light.

"Excellent," said Bella as a school of large, silvery fish with multiple tails swam past the wall beside her. She closed the door, and it too disappeared, giving Severus an unobstructed view of the lake around them. The Grindylows swam up the sides of the room to give chase to the school of fish.

"Out," commanded Bella, and Severus turned. She was addressing a group of sixth year Slytherins who were seated in the centre of the room.

"Bella, we're studying — "

"And you can do that elsewhere. I said OUT!"

There were echoes of her cousin Sirius in her voice, haughty and self-assured. The students began to pack up their things, but they weren't quick enough; with an upward swipe of her wand, Bella sent their papers flying into the air.

"Come on, Bella…" whined one of the students as the others scrambled to collect the whirling papers. He drew his wand and pointed at the fluttering sheets of parchment. " _Accio_  —"

" _Everte statum_ ," said Bella lazily. Her wand twitched, and the sixth years went flying backwards, flipping helplessly in the air and crashing against the entrance to the room. One of the students, looking panicked now, hastily pulled open the dungeon door while another Summoned the remainder of their belongings. The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind them and then faded from view so that Bella and Severus were looking at nothing but the murky depths of the lake.

"That's better," said Bella, as if she had merely brought the room to a more comfortable temperature. They wandered to the far corner of the dungeon, where Bella conjured up a pair of cushions for them to sit on.

"House-elf," said Bella imperiously once they had settled down among the cushions. There was a loud crack, and in front of them appeared a small, thin creature wearing nothing but a tea towel emblazoned with the Hogwarts crest.

"Yes, mistress?" squeaked the creature, bowing. One of its ears pointed straight up while the other flopped in front of its face, covering its eyes. Its limbs were unnaturally long and spindly. Severus had to force himself not to stare. He'd never seen a house-elf before, and hadn't expected them to look quite so… fragile.

"We'd like some tea," said Bella. Her tone wasn't bossy or demanding; on the contrary, she sounded so confident her orders would be obeyed that she didn't need to be bossy. "Black. I'll take cream and sugar with mine."

The house-elf bowed again and turned towards Severus, brushing its ear out of the way. "And for young master?"

"Earl grey," said Severus. "Hot."  _In case it wasn't obvious._

The house-elf gave them a final, floppy-eared bow and vanished with another loud crack. Seconds later, there was a softer popping noise. Severus gave a start and felt supremely foolish when he realized the source of the sound. A silver tea tray had appeared in front of them, containing their tea and a small platter of scones. "Good service," he said. He tried to affect a disinterested tone, as if he hadn't just jumped five feet in the air.

"Oh, they're darling," said Bella as she reached for the teapot. "My aunt has one I  _adore_ , he's so precious." She poured a bit of tea into her cup. "You'll have never seen one before, though, have you?"

Severus blinked at her question, wondering if he'd committed some sort of faux pas that made it obvious he'd never interacted with a house-elf. She met his eyes and smiled. "I just figured, given your background…"

_Right,_  thought Severus bitterly.  _Because I was raised by a Muggle and a witch who may as well have been one._  He should have known that his blood status was enough of an oddity in Slytherin that even among seventh years his parentage would be common knowledge. "That was my first encounter with a house-elf, yes."

"I can't even imagine." Bella widened her eyes and shuddered dramatically. "What was it like? Growing up with a Muggle for a father?"

Her curiosity seemed innocent enough, but Severus had no desire to relate the details of his miserable upbringing to a girl he'd just met. "It was exactly as you'd expect it to be."

"That's awful," said Bella, sounding sympathetic. "Although at least you knew what you were, though, because of your mum. Can you imagine, spending your whole childhood in  _that_  world without knowing anything about ours?" She shook her head. "I feel bad for Mudbloods, honestly. Even after they get their letter and learn that they're magic, they still don't  _really_  belong, neither here nor there. Caught between two worlds… I don't expect anyone could be truly happy living like that."

Severus was impressed at both this unexpected display of compassion and at Bella's word-for-word parroting of the anti-Muggle pamphlets that had been making their way around Slytherin House in recent weeks. Apparently, the propaganda was leaving a more lasting impression than he had thought.

"I imagine it would be difficult," he said, thinking of Lily, who certainly didn't seem caught between two worlds.

"It's a good thing they're dying out, I suppose," said Bella indifferently. "One way or another."

That sounded more like the Death Eater in training he knew her to be, but he had no interest in showing approval for that sort of ideology, so he said nothing.

His silence didn't go unnoticed. "Oh, I don't care if you agree about that," said Bella. "I think we'd be doing them a mercy, but I'm not obsessed with blood purity the way some people are. I think we have that in common… and other things, too."

She put such significance on the last bit that Severus felt obliged to respond. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"I mean I'm not like the other absolute  _brutes_  in our House, and I don't think you are, either. I don't care about having power, or control, or keeping the Mudbloods in their place," she said, fixing her dark eyes on him. "What I like is magic —  _Dark_  magic. Bending it to my will, shaping it, feeling the way it runs through me and remaking it into what I want." A wild light danced behind her eyes. "I've seen you with your spells, and I think you like it too."

Well, there was no denying that. Dark magic was twisted and unpredictable, its bounds nearly limitless. Ordinary magic couldn't compare, really. He nodded his agreement and she grinned, her expression making her look somewhat feral.

"I knew it," she said. "I knew we were alike. And the Dark Lord — he's the same way as us. He knows how better than I do, he's been showing me." She touched her left arm, raising her eyebrows at Severus as she rubbed the sleeve of her robe. "Maybe I'll share some of it with you if you're lucky."

_Of course you don't care about power_ , thought Severus, his eyes on her arm.  _You already have it._

* * *

Lily Evans was in a foul mood.

As if it wasn't enough that she and Severus had rowed, she now had to spend her Sunday evening babysitting James Potter — James Potter! — as he served his detention. During the week, detentions were overseen by the Heads of House, but since it was the weekend, Professor McGonagall had delegated the task to the Head Boy, who had delegated it to the seventh year Gryffindor prefects, who had delegated it to the sixth year prefects, who had delegated it to Lily. She had hoped that Remus Lupin would have been able to supervise the detention with her, too — the presence of one of James' friends might have meant she could interact with him less — but she hadn't been able to find Remus anywhere that evening.

She stormed up the stairs that led to Gryffindor tower, passing the corridor containing the portrait of the Fat Lady and continuing up the winding staircase. Eventually, she reached the ladder that stretched up through several makeshift wooden platforms to lead to the belfry, which was so far above it was out of sight. After casting an Anti-Gravity Charm on herself — she wasn't about to risk falling off the ladder, after all — she began to climb, her thoughts dark. Maybe James wouldn't show. Maybe his fat head would cause him to slip off the scaffolding of the bell tower and plummet to his death.

Well, perhaps not his  _death_. Maybe he'd just be permanently incapacitated.

James was waiting for her at the top of the ladder, and her heart sank.  _Damn it all._

"Evening, Evans," he said cheerfully. He offered her a hand, which she refused. "Lovely night, isn't it?"

"Let's just get started," she said, brushing off her knees as she stood up. "You are to clean the Bell of Merlin — that's the big one, in the middle — and polish it. McGonagall also wanted you to polish the Bells of Cadogan and Morgana, if there's time. Cleaning spells —"

"…are prohibited," he finished, smirking. "Not my first detention, Evans. And I know which one the Bell of Merlin is, Merlin himself knows I've cleaned it enough times —"

"Then you should be able to finish quickly," snapped Lily. "I'll be over here if you need me. Which you won't."

She sat down on the floor of the belfry, watching as he picked his way over the wooden beams to the Bell of Merlin. Once he'd reached it, he placed one hand on the massive bell for balance before turning back towards her. "I suppose I'm allowed to conjure up some rags?" he called. "Or do I need to use my tongue?"

"Rags are fine," said Lily, glowering. James grinned, his eyes on Lily, and pretended to lick the bell as he pulled his wand out of his back pocket. Lily flushed. "That's just foul!"

"Good point," said James thoughtfully, pulling off one of his shoes and then his sock. "The poor bell doesn't deserve that, it doesn't know where I've been…" With a wave of his wand, the sock turned into a large, dirty rag. He stuffed his foot back into his shoe and began to polish the bell, oblivious to the fact that Lily was fuming.

"Potter," she said with as much fury as she could muster, "you can't polish the Bell of Merlin with your  _sock_  —"

"Why not?" he asked, widening his eyes innocently.

"Because it's a precious historical artefact! It needs to be treated with respect!"

"Honestly, Evans," he said, shaking his head, "I always knew you fancied me, but to call my sock a precious artefact…"

"You know I meant the bell, you prat!"

"You're too easy to work up," he said, continuing to polish the bell. "Not that I mind, seeing as you're cute when you're angry…"

Lily was too livid for words. "Ah, Evans, come off it," he said, noting her furious expression. "I'm just taking the mickey. You know I'm rubbish at conjuring, it's so much easier to just use Transfiguration…"

"But a  _sock_ , Potter? Really?"

"Would you rather I used my shirt?" he asked, winking.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Fine. Do what you want. Just don't bother me." She pulled her book out of her bag and flipped to where she had left off, determined not to engage him any more than she already had. In her peripheral vision, he shrugged and continued working.

Some time later, she looked up, only to discover that James had vanished. "Potter?" she said loudly, standing and walking to the edge of the wooden platform. She scanned the belfry, but there was no sign of him. "Are you there?"

A foot peeked over the top of the enormous Bell of Merlin, followed by the rest of him. He appeared to be hanging upside-down in the air as if suspended by the ankle. "You called?" he asked, his voice sounding strangely muffled, and Lily almost screamed.

"Get — get down from there — if you fall and break your neck —"

"I imagine you'd get to turn in early if I did," James said, still talking as if he was chewing a large wad of gum. His mop of hair was even more tousled now that he was upside-down. He kept his wand pointed at himself, and with a jerking motion he levitated up and over the massive bell so that he was floating in the air in front of Lily, high above the crisscrossing wooden beams.

"Are you  _insane_?" she said, beginning to sincerely think he might be.

"Well, how else was I going to clean the very top of the bell? Since I can't use cleaning charms —"

"You could have used a ladder like a normal person!" she exclaimed. "You could have levitated your  _rag_  —"

"Ladders are for Muggles." He used his free hand to pull down his shirt, which had come untucked from his trousers and was flopped over his face. "And as far as the rag goes, where's the fun in that?"

"You're in detention! It's not supposed to be fun!"

"And yet I'm having a great time," he said, grinning broadly. "You should come up here too and — oops —"

His rag had fallen out of his pocket, tumbling down through the rafters of the belfry. He turned his wand away from himself, towards the falling rag, and she realized what was about to happen. " _Accio_  —"

"POTTER, NO!"

But it was too late. James dangled in the air for a moment, his eyes widening in shock as he realized what he'd done; he clapped one hand over his mouth, almost comically. Then, his levitation spell broken, he dropped like a rock, plummeting headfirst through the lattice of wooden beams, towards the bottom of the tower —

" _LEVICORPUS_!" yelled Lily, dropping to her knees at the edge of the platform and pointing her wand downward. _If he actually falls to his death tonight —_

There was a crash, and then silence. Lily could feel her pulse racing. _Come on, come on —_

Then a large, dark shape came speeding upwards, smashing through the rafters and flying above her head, until, ten feet above her, it stopped.

"Er," said James Potter with a grimace as he hung upside-down in the air. His hand was still over his mouth. "Thanks. Think I might have broken a foot, though…"

Lily flicked her wand, jerking him towards her until he was dangling above the platform. " _Liberacorpus_ ," she growled, too angry to cast the spell nonverbally, and he collapsed beside her, groaning and holding his ankle tenderly.

Lily briefly considered leaving James to fend for himself — broken bones were commonplace at Hogwarts, and this was surely not his first — but her conscience got the better of her. With a sigh, she knelt down and rolled up his trouser leg to expose his ankle, which was badly cut and already beginning to swell.

"I suppose this gets you out of detention," she said coolly, straightening up. "Since we'll have to take you to the hospital wing. Though how you expect to climb down the ladder with a broken ankle is beyond me…"

"I can do it," said James through gritted teeth as he crawled towards the ladder. "And I'm not going to the hospital wing."

"Fine by me," said Lily. James looked up, seeming genuinely surprised that she was not arguing the point. She rolled her eyes at his expression. "It's not my problem that you don't even have the common sense to go see Madam Pomfrey after a fall."

"That wasn't… technically… a fall," he panted, easing himself down the ladder. "Seeing as I didn't actually hit the ground."

That was almost funny. Not that she'd ever admit it. "I wouldn't be so sure," she said. "Test my patience again and you might just find yourself at the bottom of the belfry."

"Surely you wouldn't hurt a  _cripple_ ," he replied, wincing as he climbed down the rungs.

Lily bit back a smile. "Go ahead and try me."

After what seemed like ages, they arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady, and Lily gave the password to let them in. She climbed into the portrait hole, but James remained outside.

"Erm…" he said awkwardly. "You know… I was thinking I might go down to the hospital wing after all. My ankle actually hurts quite a lot."

"Great idea," said Lily. She wanted nothing more than to climb into bed and finish reading her novel. Babysitting James was exhausting. "You do that."

"I will," said James. "And, er, Evans…"

She kept going. The portrait of the Fat Lady swung shut behind her, and she didn't look back.

* * *

Sirius pulled off the Invisibility Cloak as soon as the entrance to the Gryffindor common room had closed behind Lily. "Let me get this straight," he said. "Your punishment for duelling to impress Lily Evans… was that you got to spend more time with Lily Evans? How did you manage that one?"

"I know," said James. He grimaced and hobbled over to where Sirius and Peter stood. "Lucky me, I guess."

"I think there might be something wrong with your ankle, mate," observed Peter as James draped an arm around his shoulders for support. "Just a feeling I've got."

"Really?" said James. "That's funny, I hadn't noticed…"

Sirius pulled the Invisibility Cloak over the three of them and they vanished from sight. "Must've been a bad date, then, eh?" he asked James as they started down the corridor. "Even by your standards…"

"Not my most shining moment, yeah," agreed James. "Kept my leaf in though, which was bloody difficult, I'll have you know. You've got everything we need?" he added. Sirius nodded.

"I can't believe we're finally doing it," said Peter as they rounded a corner. "After three years of trying—"

"Don't jinx it yet, Pete," warned James. "There's still about five hundred feet before we reach the Astronomy tower."

But they climbed to the top of the tower without incident, apart from James' muttered curses as he hopped up the stairs.

"Sweet Merlin,  _and_  it's a clear night," said Sirius, looking at the starry sky. The full moon hung bright and heavy above them. "Couldn't ask for better."

"Yeah," said James as he pulled off the Cloak. "It's weird, isn't it? Thinking right now, Moony's…" he trailed off and glanced beyond the parapet, towards Hogsmeade.

"Soon he'll have us for company, at least," said Sirius. He pulled the decanter made of black glass out of his bag, along with three crystal phials and the package bound with twine that James had picked up from Pippin's.

"What form do you think yours will take?" Peter asked Sirius, who was arranging the phials along the wall of the parapet.

"Well,  _yours_  will be a mosquito, obviously…"

James snorted and unwrapped the package, revealing three chrysalises the colour of clotted blood. "Are we ready?"

Sirius and Peter nodded and took a step back from the wall. James spared another glance at the moon.

"Together then," he said. "One, two, three —"

He reached into his mouth and pulled out his leaf, and the other two did the same. Mandrake leaves were generally thick and fibrous, but being exposed to saliva over the course of a month had turned his to dark green paste. He dropped the mush into one of the phials, and Sirius and Peter followed his lead.

Then he unstoppered the decanter, measuring out a trickle of dew with a silver teaspoon. He poured the dew into the phials, one teaspoon at a time, and placed a chrysalis into each phial. Finally, all three of them tugged out a lock of their own hair and added it to their mixtures.

Satisfied, James stoppered the phials and stepped back. They waited.

Nothing happened.

Peter broke the silence first. "That's it? After all that work?"

"I  _was_  expecting something a little more dramatic," agreed Sirius with a shrug. "But I guess we'll have to wait till the next electrical storm for that."

"But a storm could take ages," said Peter. "Are we supposed to just sit around —"

"Yeah, we are, actually," said James irritably. His ankle was hurting worse now, throbbing with every second he put weight on it. "We'll lock our potions in the dorms, so we won't be tempted to look —"

"By 'we', he means you, Pete," said Sirius, nudging Peter.

"— and we'll say the incantations, and we'll wait." James tucked his phial inside his robes. His injured ankle rolled underneath him, and he stumbled. Sirius caught him before he could fall.

"You should really go see Madam Pomfrey, mate," he said. He pulled his wand out of his robe and conjured a pair of crude wooden crutches for James to lean on.

"Show-off," muttered James, but he took the crutches.

As he turned to leave the tower, he looked once again towards Hogsmeade. It might've been his imagination, but he thought he could hear a distant, mournful howl.


	3. The Laughing Pear

The next morning, James woke to pain shooting through his ankle and up his leg. Sirius was sitting on the end of his bed, shaking him by the calf.

"Ow, Sirius — stop it, would you? My ankle…"

"Oops, sorry mate — forgot —" Sirius hopped off the bed. "It's sunrise, though. Thought you wouldn't want to miss it, considering…"

The pain in his ankle ebbed. James yawned and sat up. "Good thinking. After all that work with the Mandrake leaf, I'd hate to ruin things on the very first day…" He groped for his wand, which was lying on the nightstand beside him. "Is Peter up?"

"I am now," came a voice, and Peter's head appeared as he drew back the curtains to James' four poster bed. "Are we ready?"

James nodded and pressed the tip of his wand to his own chest. " _Amato Animo Animato Animagus_ ," he intoned. A warm flush spread through his body as he said the words. Sirius went next, wand over heart, followed by Peter, who nearly stumbled over the incantation.

"Don't muck it up, Pete, or you really will turn into a mosquito," said Sirius, returning to his bed and pulling a set of school robes off the floor.

Peter made a face. "You don't actually believe that, do you?"

"Nah," said James as he changed into his uniform. "You'd become some sort of mosquito-human hybrid. Shunned by society as an abomination, you'll have to flee to the Forbidden Forest, where you'll live out the rest of your days in hiding. First years will speak in hushed tones of the blood-sucking monstrosity that lurks in the dark, watching… waiting…"

This did not seem to reassure Peter, but Sirius laughed. "Come on, mate," he said, clapping a hand on Peter's back. "You'll be fine. Worst case, we'll have two beasts hiding in the Shrieking Shack."

Sirius conjured up another pair of crutches for James to use, and they descended the many staircases of Hogwarts. On the first floor landing, James bid goodbye to his friends, who were headed for breakfast in the Great Hall, and began to plod towards the hospital wing.

He shouldered open the door to the infirmary in time to see Madam Pomfrey slip behind a curtain drawn around a bed at the far end of the room. She murmured something, and a soft voice responded, but he wasn't able to make out the words. He crutched over to one of the nearby beds and sat down gingerly, extending his injured leg in front of him.

After a few minutes, Madam Pomfrey emerged from behind the curtain. Her shoes clicked loudly on the floor as she strode towards him. She was a young witch — she couldn't have been out of her mid-twenties — with large brown eyes and an open face. James was thoroughly committed to badgering Lily until the end of time, but he considered Madam Pomfrey an excellent second choice when Lily wasn't available.

"Hullo, Poppy," he said, lifting a hand in greeting.

Madam Pomfrey tutted. "Five points from Gryffindor. What is it now, Potter?"

James grinned. "Only five points? I was expecting ten."

"I thought about it," she said, and though her voice was firm, her eyes sparkled. "But you appear to actually be injured this time, so I have chosen to overlook your disrespect."

She knelt beside him and rolled up his trouser leg, much the same way Lily had done. "Mind telling me what happened?"

James flinched as she prodded his ankle with her wand. "Well, I didn't fall down—"

"Quite right," she said. "Judging from the angle of the break, you seem to actually have fallen up." She pressed her wand into the skin of his ankle and closed her eyes as if listening to what his leg had to say. "Another victim of the Levicorpus, I think?"

James' eyes began to water. Her wand was really digging into his leg. "Basically."

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "Imagine, taking turns flinging each other into the air and being surprised when someone gets hurt. Teenagers, I tell you…" She tapped his ankle twice with her wand. " _Emendo_."

Immediately the pain subsided, and James watched as the swelling decreased before his eyes. Even the bruising faded.

"You're the greatest witch of our time," he said, relaxing.

"I should think so," replied Madam Pomfrey. She stood up and stowed her wand in the pocket of her apron. "I get quite a lot of practice from you and your friends alone. Speaking of which…" She nodded her head towards the occupied bed at the end of the infirmary. "He's not supposed to have visitors, but Remus might appreciate if you said hi before you left."

James Vanished his makeshift crutches with a wave of his wand before walking towards the bed hidden behind the curtain.

Remus rolled over slowly as James pulled back the curtain. "Hi," said Remus hoarsely. He sounded as if he'd been screaming, and his lips were badly chapped. The only colour in his face came from the dark purple bruises that ringed his eyes.

"Moony," said James as he sat on the edge of the bed. "You look great."

Remus smiled weakly. "It's been a long night."

"Listen," said James. He peered beyond the curtain to make sure Madam Pomfrey was out of hearing distance. Leaning closer to Remus, he lowered his voice. "We did it."

Remus blinked. He frowned as if he didn't understand.

"Last night," said James. "We went up to the Astronomy tower and made the potion. It went perfectly. All we have to do now is wait for a storm, and that shouldn't take more than a couple of months."

Remus didn't respond. He looked for a moment as if he might cry, and then he shut his eyes, breathing deeply. "I never asked —"

"'Course you didn't," said James, raising an eyebrow. "You're Remus Lupin. If you were playing Seeker at the Quidditch World Cup you wouldn't ask for a broom."

"You shouldn't have —"

"And yet we did," said James. "We've started the incantations, so there's no backing out now."

Remus didn't seem happy to hear this. On the contrary, he grimaced, as if James' words caused him physical pain.

James looked at him. "At some point, Moony, you have to get used to the idea that you have friends." He stood up and turned to leave. "Get some rest. Let Poppy pamper you. And look forward to the storm."

* * *

There was a pit in Lily's stomach as she made her way down to Dungeon Two for their Potions lesson with the Slytherins. She hadn't seen Severus since they'd rowed the day before, and she wasn't much looking forward to working with him in class. Though she was determined not to back down from what she'd said, she secretly hoped he would want to pretend their argument had never happened. That way they could avoid the conversation altogether.

She reached the dungeon five minutes before the lesson was to start. She'd wanted to arrive before Severus, but he was already at their table, leafing absentmindedly through his Potions text. She slid into the seat beside him and could tell immediately that he hadn't forgotten what had happened the day before.

"Hi," she said tentatively, pulling her copy of Advanced Potion-Making out of her bag.

He turned a page, not looking at her. Lily bit her lip and pretended to search for something in her bag.

There was a crash near the front of the room, and a few voices erupted in laughter. James Potter had arrived with Sirius and Peter, and by the sound of it, they'd just broken an extremely expensive set of gold scales. While Sirius and Peter laughed uproariously, James mended the scales with a flick of his wand. He caught Lily's eye and winked before strolling to the back of the classroom. There was no trace of a limp in his confident stride.

So he went to Madam Pomfrey after all, she thought with a rush of vindication. Had he told his little gang about the unflattering way in which he'd injured his leg? Probably not; the story didn't paint him in a very good light. Then again, maybe they'd think it was funny that he'd been stupid enough to Levicorpus himself up to the top of the bell. There was no telling with boys.

Inspiration struck her, and she turned to Severus, who was doing his best to emanate an air of complete indifference to James' entrance. "You'll never guess what Potter did last night," she said, lowering her voice.

Severus raised his eyebrows slightly, but he continued to stare at his textbook. "Whatever it was, it's a pity he didn't break his neck in the process."

"He almost did, actually," she said, and she filled him in on what had happened in the belfry, making sure to emphasize just how stupid James had been. It didn't take much exaggeration, really.

By the time she had finished relating the whole story, Severus was making eye contact with her again, and there was the suggestion of a smile on his face. "Pity you felt the need to save him," he said. "I would have just used Accelaro Momentum and let the chips fall where they may."

"It's the Gryffindor in me," sighed Lily, and Severus laughed. She turned to drape her bag over the back of her chair and stopped as the hair on the back of her neck prickled. James was watching her from the back of the classroom, no longer smiling.

Lily swallowed. He couldn't have overheard her, could he? Though she had made some wild hand gestures when describing how he'd dropped like a rock through the belfry scaffolding. It probably wouldn't have been difficult for him to figure out what she'd been talking about.

She flashed him a tight-lipped smile, which he didn't return, and turned back to face the front of the class. It's his own fault for being such a prat, she thought, trying to assuage her guilty conscience.

Professor Slughorn entered the room, his arms full of what looked to be some kind of flowering plant. "Hellebore," whispered Severus, and Lily nodded excitedly. Professor Slughorn dropped the wildflowers on his desk and removed his thick leather gloves before Vanishing the traces of dirt and leaves that had clung to his robes.

"Settle down, settle down," said Professor Slughorn genially, hushing the students who were still talking. "Lots to do today, though I daresay you'll have time enough to chat later. Today's lesson," he said, with a gesture towards the plants on the table, "will be on the various properties of hellebore."

He waved his wand, a large diagram of the plant appeared on the blackboard behind him. "As some of you may already know, hellebore is quite a versatile plant, containing an array of uses. The leaves, though toxic in large quantities, can treat paralysis and alleviate insanity. The flowers, on the other hand…"

As he continued to lecture, Lily's hand began to cramp from the sheer amount of notes she made on her parchment. Professor Slughorn wasn't wrong; hellebore had an astonishing number of effects in potion-making, depending on the ingredients used alongside it. Beside her, Severus listened attentively, jotting the occasional note in his Potions book.

At the conclusion of his lecture, Professor Slughorn tasked them with inventing a potion whose properties could be attributed to hellebore, and the room began to hum with activity.

"Well, we could make a poison, but that wouldn't be very subtle," said Lily, flipping through her textbook.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Everyone's going to make a poison. It's the most obvious option. We can do better than that."

"I wonder if we could do something related to Disillusionment," said Lily as she reviewed her notes. "Considering it can be used to cure insanity, which is a sort of mental illusion, right? If we could make that take a physical effect…"

"Interesting," said Severus, and he began to scribble a list on one of the blank pages at the back of his Potions book. "We'd have to account for the toxic side effects, of course, but that should be straightforward, if tedious."

"We might need to add lacewing flies, too, since they can enhance potions-based Transfigurations. What do you think?"

"Absolutely." Severus' quill flew across the page. "We also ought to use Devil's Snare as the anti-poison."

"You love using Devil's Snare," said Lily. "Think of something else we could use as the anti-poison."

"Why should I? If Devil's Snare is versatile, with minimal side-effects…"

Lily gave him an exasperated look, but she couldn't hide her smile. "Because Devil's Snare is native to South America, and hellebore is as common as my parentage, so we should use ingredients that match, alright?"

Severus winced at that, which surprised Lily; she had expected him to laugh.

"I wasn't aware we were trying to make a potion we could brew in Cokeworth," he said mildly, but he scratched the word 'Devil's Snare' off his list.

Lily narrowed her eyes before turning back to the parchment she had been scribbling on. He was acting as if he didn't understand she'd just made a Muggle-born joke. She couldn't fathom the reason why; she'd poked similar fun before and he'd found it amusing. Maybe her delivery had fallen flat. Maybe the political correctness of the Ministry was rubbing off on him.

Or maybe, she realized with a sinking feeling, it's not so funny when you're in league with people who actually believe that rubbish.

They continued working together, but something in the air between them had changed. Severus resisted her efforts to chat about anything other than their potion, and continually steered the conversation back to the properties of hellebore.

At the end of the lesson, Slughorn prompted each table to stand and demonstrate on a rat what sort of potion they had created. Severus had been right; the majority of students had made poisons, finding no other use for hellebore. James Potter and Sirius Black, in particular, had invented a poison so lethal that their rat collapsed, paws twitching, after merely sniffing the fumes.

When it was Lily and Severus' turn to demonstrate, she was delighted to see that their rat went entirely translucent except for its tail, but Severus barely reacted. The bells signalling the end of the period rung, and Severus brushed past her with barely a muttered 'goodbye'.

A few of the other Slytherins were watching her with narrowed eyes as she packed her bag. Mulciber was among them, and in his expression was nothing friendly.

* * *

"So we can all agree that Snivellus is definitely a Death Eater now, right?" James asked his friends later that afternoon. They had just stopped by the hospital wing to pick up Remus, who looked slightly less peaky after having slept the entire day. "Judging by the way he kept making eyes at Mulciber during Potions?"

Sirius nodded. "If he isn't at least considering joining, I'll eat Sluggy's entire stock of hellebore."

"You should have seen him in class today, Moony," said Peter as Remus swallowed the last of the Invigoration Draught that Madam Pomfrey had pressed upon him. "He was working with Lily, and when they had to present together, he got all fidgety and acted like he didn't know her."

"I can't imagine that was very convincing," said Remus. "Considering they've been inseparable for years."

"Greasy, hook-nosed git," muttered James. "It was so disrespectful. I don't know why she keeps overlooking the fact that he's a slimeball."

"Some birds are like that, though," said Sirius, lifting a shoulder. "They give too many chances. It's a low self-esteem thing."

"Come off it," said James. "Evans isn't —"

"I think it has more to do with the fact that Snape's her childhood friend," said Remus. The potion appeared to be taking effect; there was a spring in his step as they rounded a corner. "It must be difficult to grow apart from someone you know so well."

"Setting Lily Evans aside for half a second," said Sirius impatiently, "are we all in agreement that our favourite Slytherin needs a little reminder about how to behave himself?"

"Absolutely," said James at once, and Peter nodded vigorously beside him. Remus raised his eyebrows, saying nothing, but there was a slight smile on his face.

At the bottom of the marble staircase, James and Sirius were debating the merits of turning Severus into a footstool when the door to the Great Hall slammed. Lily was leaving the Great Hall in such a rush that she was struggling to sling her bag over her shoulder. She stopped short when she saw the four boys on the stairs.

"Lily," said Remus, surprised. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Just getting back to the common room," she said evasively. "If you'll excuse me…"

She tried to squeeze past them, but James put his arm out, blocking her path. "If you want to have dinner, you're going the wrong way," he said.

"I just ate," she said, but she wouldn't meet his eye. "And I have some work to do."

"It's awfully early to be done eating already," commented Peter.

Lily flushed. "If you must know, there're some people in the Hall I'd rather not see, so I figured I'd just…"

"Sit in your dormitory and starve?" asked James.

"Something along those lines, yeah," she snapped. "Now would you let me through?"

"Why don't you come to dinner with us instead?" asked James. Behind him, Sirius let out a small groan.

Lily gave him a scathing look. "I just said I'm not interested in eating in the Great Hall, not that I'm surprised that you weren't listening, so…"

"Oh, we're not eating there either," said James, undeterred. "We're headed to the kitchens. It's something of a tradition on… days like these."

"The kitchens?" asked Lily, seemingly in spite of herself. "There are kitchens at Hogwarts?"

"Obviously," said Sirius. "Where else do you think the house-elves do the cooking?"

Lily's eyes grew even wider. "There are house-elves at Hogwarts?"

"Oh, Lily," said Remus, stepping forward. He took her by the arm and she reluctantly allowed herself to be guided back down the wide stone steps. "Hogwarts has many secrets that are normally hidden to us rule-abiders. Troublemakers such as James and Sirius, on the other hand…"

Sirius yawned and stretched his arms upward as they walked past the Great Hall and towards a door partially concealed by the marble staircase. "If you're from a family that keeps house-elves, it doesn't take a genius to figure out there must be some in Hogwarts, too. Who did you think made your bed every morning?"

Lily's brow furrowed. "I've never really thought about it. I assumed it was just magic that keeps our dormitory looking nice."

"That's sweet," said James. "I love Muggle-borns, they're so innocent." Lily shot him a glare so sharp he was surprised it didn't cut him, and Sirius elbowed him in the ribs.

James pulled door by the marble staircase open to reveal a flight of stone steps descending into darkness. "Ladies first," he said, gesturing Lily forward.

At the bottom of the steps was a wide, dimly lit corridor with large paintings of food hanging on its walls. "You'll want the second painting from the end," Sirius told Lily. "The one with the bowl of fruit."

"Is there a password?" she asked, walking up to the painting in question.

"None that we've found," said James. "You just tickle the pear." He touched the canvas gently, wiggling his fingers. The pear laughed and began to spin, turning into a large brass doorknob. James pulled at the doorknob and the canvas swung aside, revealing the entrance to the kitchens.

The room was huge, with a large brick fireplace roaring at one end and four long wooden tables in the middle, mirroring the Great Hall. House-elves scurried around the room like mice, brandishing all manner of cookware and utensils and leaping over each other in their haste to prepare food on each of the long tables.

Lily's mouth was slightly open. "How on earth did you find this place?"

Sirius winked at her. "Trade secret, Evans. Oy, Mimsy!"

A tiny house-elf ran up to them and bowed deeply. There was a tartan cloth wrapped around its head, pinning its ears away from its face. "Master Black and his friends are right on time!" it squeaked. It noticed Lily, and its eyes grew large as saucers. "And Master Black has brought a guest!"

"Master Potter has brought a guest," corrected James.

Lily frowned. "Actually, I'm here at Master Lupin's invitation." She beamed at Remus, who smiled cheerily back at her.

James glowered. "You git," he said, elbowing Remus. "You better thank your lucky tea leaves you're a recovering invalid…"

Mimsy the house-elf guided them to a small table by the fire, which was laid out with roasted chicken, glazed pork loin, a variety of potatoes and vegetables, and an enormous tankard of butterbeer. There were already five places set.

"This is amazing," said Lily. She heaped some chicken onto her plate and watched the house-elves scamper from table to table. "I had no idea… and they're so cute! I'm surprised you lot ever eat in the Great Hall if this is the service you get in the kitchens…"

"Er, yeah, we don't want to take them away from their duties," said James as nobly as he could manage through a mouthful of pork loin. Beside him, Sirius rolled his eyes.

"How often do you come down here?" asked Lily.

James' eyes flickered to Remus, who had already finished his first plate and was helping himself to seconds.

"Just whenever we need a little pick-me-up," said Remus, tearing into a chicken thigh. "I imagine you feel the same today. Who were you trying to avoid, by the way?"

Lily sighed. "Who do you think?"

"Aw, Lily," said Peter, "you shouldn't avoid Marlene just because she got better marks than you on the Defence essay. There's plenty of room in Gryffindor for two talented witches…"

Sirius barked a laugh, and even Lily smiled a little. "You know it was Sev," she said.

James' expression darkened. Of course. He should have guessed.

Lily used her fork to push at the last of the potatoes on her plate. "I got to the Great Hall early, and I sat at the Hufflepuff table, 'cause I figured—"

"No man's land," said Sirius, and Lily nodded.

"But then Sev came in with Avery and that creep Mulciber, and he pretended not to see me but I know he did. And then —" she hesitated. "There's this spell he invented, that we use when making Potions… basically, it Vanishes bones, so that if you have to add a newt or something, it dissolves easier? But after they sat down I saw Mulciber take out his wand and point it at the roast chicken and… he de-boned the entire thing." She looked like she was about to cry. "I don't know why Sev would have told someone like Mulciber of all people about that spell. It's not like — I mean, it's harmless when we use it during class, but Mulciber…"

"He doesn't strike me as the type to want to improve his Potions marks," said Sirius darkly, and Remus nodded in agreement. James said nothing, but his frown grew deeper. What was Severus playing at, sucking up to Mulciber?

Lily continued. "You've all heard what Mulciber says about — about people like me. If that's who Severus wants to be around... I just don't know how to reconcile that," she said, staring down into her lap. "He says he's just trying to keep the peace — be friends with me and his House — "

"That's a load of steaming dragon dung," interrupted James furiously. "There are plenty of Slytherins who are — maybe not good people, but at least basically harmless, but he's choosing to cosy up to Mulciber. You heard what that piece of filth said to you in Pippin's the other day, he's swallowed all that pure-blood garbage, and I don't know where Snivellus gets off —"

"Don't call him that," said Lily sharply, looking up. "I know he's not perfect, but —"

"What should I call him instead? Spineless Snape? Sir Severus, noble Knight of Walpurgis?"

"James..." cautioned Remus, with a look at Lily, whose face was becoming as red as her hair.

"Or maybe," said James, speaking over him, "We should call him what he is, a future Death Eater who doesn't deserve one ounce of affection from you or from anyone — "

Pain seared through his hand, and he broke off, swearing loudly. The mug of butterbeer he'd been holding had shattered. He glanced at Lily, whose hair was standing on end as if crackling with electricity.

Lily stood, shaking with fury. "Sorry. Accident."

So she couldn't even control her magic when she was angry. What was she, twelve? James sucked at the cut on his thumb. "No worries," he said flatly.

The foaming yellow liquid spilt over the edge of the table, and a group of house-elves, rags in hand, rushed to clean up the mess.

"I'm sorry," Lily said stiffly to Mimsy, who had climbed onto her chair in an effort to wipe off the table. "Didn't mean to do that. I should get going, anyway. Thank you for the food, Mimsy. And Remus," she said, completely ignoring James, who had opened his mouth to speak, "thank-you for the invite."

She slung her bag roughly over her shoulder and stormed out of the kitchen. A number of house-elf heads turned to watch her leave.

"Master Potter has upset the young miss!" squeaked Mimsy, waggling a thin finger at James.

"Yeah, was that really necessary?" asked Sirius. He leaned back in his chair as he watched the house-elves clean up the spilt butterbeer.

James ran both hands roughly through his hair, making it look messier than ever. "Sorry," he said, directing the apology at Sirius, who merely shrugged.

"I'm not the one who fancies her, mate. Anyway —" Sirius checked his watch, which was strapped to his wrist with a leather band and had hands pointing to Roman numerals instead of runes. It was so obviously Muggle-made that it stood out as clearly as if it had twelve faces and a phoenix replica that chimed the hour. "It's nearly sunset, so we should say the incantation. Wands out, yeah?"

* * *

Later that week, Severus was eating breakfast alone in the Great Hall when an intimidatingly large eagle owl landed on the table in front of him. It shook its massive wings and cocked its head at Severus, staring at him with piercing yellow eyes. An unlabelled envelope was tied to its leg.

Severus looked around, certain that the owl was meant to deliver the letter to one of the other students sitting at the Slytherin table, but nobody else was paying it any attention.

The eagle owl tapped one of its long black talons impatiently on the table, like a bored bank teller. It held out its leg haughtily as if it had better things to be doing, and Severus untied the envelope. It was sealed with a dollop of black wax and felt heavy in his hands. Without another sound, the owl flapped its enormous wings and took off as quickly as it had arrived.

Severus opened the envelope. Inside was a single square of thick parchment with only a few lines written on it in vivid green ink.

_Congratulations,_  read the letter in tall, slanting handwriting.  _You have been selected as one of our newest Intents. Please join us in Dungeon Thirteen on the second Saturday of March to learn more about your role as an Intent. Midnight. Tell no one._  It was signed with a large, looping  _L_.

Severus glanced down the table. Mulciber was holding a similar square of parchment, looking quite smug, and Avery appeared to have just finished tucking something into his bag. At the far end of the table, Bella was watching him, and upon catching his eye she gave Severus a broad smile and a wave, nodding approvingly at the letter he was holding.

Despite his best efforts to slip away from the Great Hall and go to Charms unnoticed, Bella caught up with him as he ascended the stairs to the third floor.

"Did you like it?" she asked excitedly, grabbing him by the arm. Severus resisted the impulse to shake her off. "I actually wrote most of the invitations myself, Lucius has terrible handwriting. I gave you the eagle owl on purpose," she added with a wink. "Mulciber got a pygmy owl, the troll. He did end up using your de-boning spell, by the way. On a cat." She rolled her eyes. "No imagination whatsoever. I wish we didn't have to include him at all, but he'd be a legacy, so…"

Severus shrugged and skipped over a trick step in the staircase they were climbing. "Are you an Intent too?"

"Me? Oh, no." Bella shook her head. A ringlet of hair fell haphazardly into her face and she brushed it back with a hand. "I'm already a Secondary. The Dark Lord considers me practically a Primary, though. I think he's waiting until I graduate to Mark me."

Severus considered this as they reached the landing for the third floor, and Bella turned to face him. "You don't seem very excited," she said, placing her hands on her hips. "You're not smirking or gloating or anything."

"I'm just thinking," Severus said. He glanced at the students around them and Bella followed his gaze, her brow furrowed. She grabbed his arm again — he really hated this much physical contact — and dragged him down the corridor, ducking into an alcove hidden by an old tapestry depicting a unicorn hunt.

"So?" she demanded. The alcove was so small that their foreheads were practically touching.

Severus met her gaze without blinking as he composed his response. "You told me we were alike," he said finally. "Surely you know the reason I'm less than thrilled."

Comprehension dawned on Bella's face. "Is it that Mudblood girl you hang around with? You think she won't approve?" She laughed, seeming relieved. "I have a simple solution for you, Sev. Don't tell her what you're doing."

"I can't just lie to her," said Severus. "She's not stupid. And I don't want to lose her as a friend."

"Oh, that'll happen regardless," said Bella dismissively. "Honestly, you will have to choose between her and us at some point, but when the time comes, the choice will be easy. It will be!" she insisted when he looked at her sceptically. "There is so much opportunity here for you. To learn magic, real magic, without the limitations that Dumbledore puts on us, that silly old has-been. To form connections, and make friends —"

"I have friends," snapped Severus.

"You have one friend, which is pathetic," said Bella casually. Severus winced. She leaned in closer — she really was quite a bit taller than him — and put her hand on the back of his neck. "You need to stop this self-sabotage and trust that Intenting will be good for you. I see your potential, and I am on your side. Don't make me regret taking an interest in you."

With that, she released him and strode out of the alcove.

Even though he was surely late to Charms by now, Severus couldn't bring himself to move from where he was planted. As he stared at the tapestry fluttering behind her, he rubbed the back of his neck, which was still tingling from her touch.


	4. Win, Lose and Draw

Lily burst into her dormitory, startling the other girls as she stormed through the room and began to rummage noisily through the trunk at the foot of her bed. “Of _course_ I’m out of rue,” she muttered, rifling through the jumble of books, parchment, and satchels of varying sizes contained in her trunk.

“What’s wrong?” asked Mary MacDonald. She and Marlene McKinnon were sitting together on her bed, swapping Charms notes and comparing essays. Across the room, Parvana Patil was lying on her back in bed, wand pointed at a set of miniature Quidditch figures that were zooming around in the air above her. “You seem a little… how can I put this…”

“Stressed out?” Marlene said, and Mary nodded.

Lily sighed and turned to look at them. “Two words,” she said. “James. Potter.”

Mary made a sympathetic noise and Marlene’s mouth quirked up at the corner.

“What’s he done now?” asked Parvana, sitting up and using her wand to direct the Quidditch figurines back into a velvet pouch.

“You know how Gryffindor plays Hufflepuff this weekend?” asked Lily.

“How could we forget?” said Marlene, sharing a glance with Parvana, who was also on the Quidditch team. “James’ been working us half to death doing drills. He’s mad about winning the Cup.”

“Exactly,” said Lily. “This morning during breakfast, he also managed to make every student at the Hufflepuff table roar like a lion. Every. Student." 

“Probably tampered with the pumpkin juice,” said Mary sagely. “It’s always the pumpkin juice.”

“Those poor Hufflepuffs,” said Marlene, who looked like she was struggling not to smile. “That sounds awful.”

“It was!” exclaimed Lily. “Because when we — the other prefects — tried to reverse the charm, we weren’t able to, and we tried _everything_. Just imagine, the Hufflepuffs roaring louder and louder as they got more and more panicked about not being able to talk…”

“Wow, that actually sounds like fun,” said Mary. “Remind me not to skip breakfast anymore, Marly.”

“Wait a minute,” said Parvana. “How do you know it was James who did it, and not some other Gryffindor fanatic?”

“Easy,” said Lily. “He came over and told me he’d let me in on the countercharm if I agreed to go out with him.” 

“Ah,” said Marlene. “Definitely James, then.” 

“He is such a brute,” sighed Mary, pulling a brush through her wavy brown hair. “A handsome, talented, charming _brute_ …”

Lily rolled her eyes. “He’s not even that good-looking. Sirius Black is leagues above him in that department…”

“Ooh, someone fancies Sirius,” teased Marlene, patting the bed to indicate Lily should join them. “Come sit, we can gossip about Gryffindor boys and copy each other’s homework, it’ll be fun.”

Lily laughed, shaking her head. “I wish, but I can’t right now, Marly, I’ve got to go — ”

“But it’s free period!” said Mary. 

“I’ve got that project for Slughorn I need to work on,” said Lily, sighing. “Honestly, if I’d known at the start of the year that it would take up so much time, I don’t think I’d have even started. The potion I’m trying to brew is _so_ finicky.”

“Yeah, but you’ll definitely get extra points on your O.W.L.s,” said Parvana, and Mary nodded her agreement. “It’ll be worth it when you get an Outstanding.”

“At this point, I’d rather take an E if it meant I got hours of my non-existent free time back.”

“Aw, it can’t be _that_ bad,” said Marlene, running her hands through her short, choppy blonde hair and making it stand up at the ends. “Brewing potions is just following instructions, right? Tedious, confusing instructions, mind you, but all the same…”

“This one’s different,” Lily said, hesitating. Slughorn had impressed upon her the importance of secrecy when it came to this potion, considering how easily it could be misused if it fell into the wrong hands. Still, she knew the other girls in her year were trustworthy, even if she wasn’t as close with them as she was to Severus. “Look, don’t spread it around, alright, but… I’m trying to make Felix Felicis.”

Parvana’s eyes widened. Mary yelped and clapped a hand over her mouth. “You are _joking_!” 

“Merlin’s soiled pants,” swore Marlene. “You’re not actually planning on _using_ it during your Potions O.W.L., right?”

“Of course not!” said Lily quickly. “It really is just to impress the examiners. But it’s so finicky, it keeps going off because it’s really sensitive to atmospheric changes and the phases of the moon. I keep trying to correct it with common rue, but you need to use a bucketload to have any sort of effect, and it’s just…” 

“Miserable?” asked Marlene, and Lily nodded.

“Makes me glad I’m going for a job in Muggle Relations,” said Mary, rolling onto her stomach. “No more Potions after this year! It’ll be great.” 

“Right,” said Marlene sarcastically. “You’ll be able to spend all your time answering questions about what a lightbulb is instead, what a great trade.”

Mary leaned over and jostled Marlene’s shoulder in retaliation, causing Marlene to spill ink all over the bedsheets.

“Low blow, MacDonald!” said Marlene, reaching for her wand. “ _Evanesco —_ oh, bugger — I swear that was an accident… ” The force of her cleaning spell had not only removed the ink from the bed, but also wiped Mary’s parchment clean.

“Oh, it’s fine, I’ll just have to copy yours now,” said Mary happily. “You’re a better writer than me, anyway. Lily, you’re sure you don’t want to study with us? Marlene could ruin your essay too, it’d be a laugh…” 

“Tempting,” said Lily, smiling. “But I really think I should go look for some more common rue.”

“So diligent,” sighed Mary. “It’s a character trait I’ll never possess, going into Muggle Relations and all…”

Marlene snorted. “Oh, by the way, Lily,” she said. “Since you’re going on grounds, would you mind looking for Fletcher while you’re out? We haven’t seen him in a week or so, and I’m wondering if he got sidetracked again by the large amount of raw meat Hagrid keeps in his hut.” 

“Oh, sure,” said Lily. Fletcher was Mary and Marlene’s shared cat; they had adopted him together after second year and were especially proud of having trained him to deliver letters like an owl. Being a cat, he wasn’t very efficient at it, and they often went large stretches without seeing him, but he was generally capable of bringing the Sunday edition of the _Daily Prophet_ up from Hogsmeade’s post office. “I’ll let you know if I find him.”

She bid her friends goodbye and left the dormitory, making her way through the castle and out onto the grounds of Hogwarts. It was early March, and the weather was just warm and sunny enough to make Lily hopeful that spring really was on its way. She meandered towards the edge of the lake, and as she passed the last of the greenhouses she heard a familiar voice.

“Lily — wait up!”

Turning, she saw Severus jogging towards her, stuffing some papers roughly into his bag, which was falling off of his shoulder.

“Hi,” she said warily as he caught up to her. She hadn’t seen much of him recently, as he had practically stopped eating meals in the Great Hall altogether and was never in any of their regular meeting places.

“Where are you going?” he asked, falling into step with her.

“Why do you want to know?” she said coolly. “Thought you were tired of hanging around me.”

“That’s not — I…” spluttered Severus. “I’ve been busy, alright?”

“Busy with your new mates? With Mulciber?”

“He’s not — They’re not — ” Severus stopped himself, his cheeks turning red. “Look, I wanted to apologize. I know I haven’t been a great friend to you recently.”

“No, you haven’t,” agreed Lily. “I don’t appreciate it when my best friend starts avoiding me without telling me why.”

“I wouldn’t either,” he said, his thin shoulders drooping. “But I won’t disappear anymore. It’s just…”

“Just what, Sev? What’s your excuse this time?" 

“I’m not trying to make excuses!” he said hurriedly. “Honestly, I’m not. And I haven’t been hanging out with my ‘mates’, as you call them. I’ve been spending time alone. I’ve needed to think.” 

“About what?”

“About where my life is going. About what I want to do after Hogwarts. And — don’t say ‘I told you so’ — about the people in Slytherin who want to be my friend all of a sudden.” 

“Do you want to be _their_ friend?” asked Lily. They had reached the edge of the lake, and as they walked she scoured the banks for common rue.

Severus shrugged. “Not really. But I don’t know how to say so without causing more trouble. What are you looking for?”

“Why don’t you want to cause trouble?” she asked, ignoring his question.

“If you’re looking for bladderwort I could lend you some, I’ve got loads.”

“I’m not looking for bladderwort,” she said. Severus sighed, and they continued walking in silence.

“I made you something,” he said at last. “To make up for being a bad friend.”

She glanced at him in spite of herself. He really did look sorry. “What is it?”

Severus pulled his wand out from the sleeve of his robes. “I call it the Langlock Jinx. It glues the victim’s tongue to the roof of their mouth. I thought it might be useful the next time Potter is harassing you.”

Lily smiled. “I could have used that this morning, with the Hufflepuffs, actually. Were you in the Great Hall during breakfast?” 

“No, but I heard about it. Emma Vanity told me.”

“Oh, it was _awful_ , Sev, and of course we couldn’t figure out how to make them stop roaring, and then Potter said he’d tell me if I went out with him…”

Severus’ mouth twisted in disgust, but something like nervousness gleamed in his black eyes. “What did you say?” 

“Of course I said no! I’d date a troll before I went out with Potter.”

“That’s an offence against trolls,” said Severus, relaxing a little. “They can’t help being large and stupid. Some people actually prefer that in a mate, you know.” 

“True,” she agreed, laughing. “Though I’ve never understood —  oh, look, rue!” She ran over to a clump of wildflowers growing at the foot of a large oak tree whose branches extended over the lake. She pulled a small knife and a handkerchief out of her bag and cut a generous handful before wrapping it up delicately, without letting the flowers touch her skin.

“Rue?” asked Severus, amused. “ _That’s_ what you wouldn’t tell me you were looking for?”

Lily’s cheeks turned pink. “Well, I was angry!” 

“But we passed a patch of rue ages ago. I thought about pointing it out, but I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“Oh… did we?” asked Lily, tucking her bundle back into her bag. “That teaches me to get distracted. You didn’t happen to notice a fat tabby cat running around either, did you?”

“No, why?” 

“Fletcher is missing. Mary and Marlene’s cat? He runs off all the time, so it isn’t too unusual, but I told them I’d keep an eye out just in case.” She glanced at Severus, who looked a little pale. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, turning away from her. “Back to the castle, then, since you’ve found what you were looking for?”

Lily stretched, turning her face up towards the sun. “Let’s stay out here a bit more, at least till lunch. You can teach me the Langlock without anyone butting in.”

Severus nodded and the two settled down on the grassy bank, throwing clods of dirt into the lake and taking turns pointing their wands at each other, laughing. When the bells signalling the end of the period began to toll, they took their time walking back up to the castle for lunch, and upon entering the Great Hall, they sat together at the Hufflepuff table without even discussing it, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

 

* * *

 

There was dew on the ground the morning of the match against Hufflepuff, and James could feel the sun warming his back as he led the Gryffindor team down to the Quidditch field.

“Right,” he said after they had all changed into their scarlet Quidditch robes. “Hufflepuff’s going to be a decent match for us this time around. They’ve got a great Seeker and a decent Keeper, but their Chasers are hopeless, which is good news for us. Our strategy going in is to score as many points as possible as quickly as possible, in case they catch the Snitch first. Marlene and Otis, you’re aiming your Bludgers at the Hufflepuff Chasers unless you hear me say otherwise. Parvana, don’t look for the Snitch yourself unless their Seeker is distracted. Stay on his tail.”

Parvana nodded in agreement and James pulled on his gloves. Outside the locker room, Madam Hooch whistled, signalling that the match was about to start. 

“We can do this,” said James. “Make me proud out there.” He picked up his broom, and the rest of the team followed suit.

The sun blinded him as he stepped out onto the Quidditch pitch, and he raised a hand to shield his eyes as he took in the stadium. The stands were packed with students wearing crimson and gold on one end and yellow and black on the other. Many of them waved banners or scarves, and there was a cheer of approval as the two teams lined up in the centre of the pitch.

“Captains, shake hands,” said Madam Hooch, and James stepped forward to shake the hand of the Hufflepuff Captain and Keeper, Frank Longbottom, a seventh-year who was much taller than he was. The two teams mounted their brooms, and with a screech from Madam Hooch’s whistle, they took to the air.

“And they’re off,” announced Sirius Black, sounding bored. He was almost as much of a Quidditch fanatic as James, but he’d been suspended from the team after the previous year’s final, during which he’d managed to rack up a record number of fouls against Slytherin. Professor McGonagall, in a rare moment of weakness, had allowed Sirius to take up Quidditch commentary for the duration of his year’s suspension, a decision she had immediately and obviously regretted. “Took them long enough, but Potter probably got caught up doing his hair. Look at how tousled it is. It’s flawless.”

James grinned as he caught the Quaffle and tucked it under his arm. He nudged his broom forward, speeding towards the Hufflepuff hoops.

“Gryffindor in possession of the Quaffle, Potter passes to Peregrine Flint — good thinking on his part, don’t want that hair getting _too_ windswept — Flint to Suzuki, and I can’t believe they’ve outflown _all_ of the Hufflepuff Chasers already. Hufflepuff might actually be as full of utter dullards as everyone believes, judging by these flying skills — alright, too far, sorry Professor McGonagall — sorry, Hufflepuff, you know I love you all — it’s Suzuki against Longbottom now, and she shoots — and…” Sirius groaned. “Longbottom makes the save, no surprises there, though, he’s practically the size of Hagrid. Suzuki should try going in between his legs next time, she’d probably fit… that _wasn’t_ innuendo, Professor, that was an innocent joke, but the whole stadium’s thinking it now —”

Within the first fifteen minutes, Gryffindor had scored twice, but they made three more attempts on the goal that were easily blocked by Longbottom. Meanwhile, the two Seekers hovered far above the pitch, zigzagging back and forth as they attempted to spot the Snitch.

“Another great save, courtesy of Longbottom… Gryffindor needs to pull Suzuki, she’s too timid with her shots. James, mate, send someone else out who can shove Longbottom off his broom… hang on, Eustace Fawley, the Hufflepuff Seeker, is doing something interesting. _Finally_ , it’s been, what, twenty minutes?… Anyway, I assume he’s seen the Snitch, he’s speeding down, Gryffindor Seeker Patil catching up and… oh, ouch…”

James could hear the collision from across the pitch and grimaced. Parvana was normally fairly reserved, but when playing Quidditch she was an absolute daredevil, making dramatic plays that even he found risky. Not that he would ever dream of telling her to tone it down.

Sirius’ voice came on over the magical megaphone. “Patil absolutely steams into Fawley — that _wasn’t_ innuendo, Professor, it’s just the way my voice sounds, you know I can’t help that — alright, moving on, looks like Patil’s deliberately crashed into him, knocking him off course but taking a nasty beating herself in the process… Madam Hooch considering calling a penalty, decides against it — and it looks like Fawley’s lost the Snitch. Shame, too, since this match is a Seeker’s to win…”

A Bludger knocked the Quaffle out of the hands of one of the Hufflepuff Chasers. Peregrine Flint dived, caught the ball and passed it to James, who sped down the pitch, approaching Hufflepuff’s goalposts. Longbottom was hovering in the air in front of him, arms bent at the elbow, ready to catch the Quaffle  — 

“Potter shoots — NO! He FEINTS! And he SCORES!”  There was a roar from Gryffindor’s side of the stands. “THAT is how you play Quidditch! James, mate, that was a work of art!”

The Gryffindor Chasers, buoyed by James’ success, managed to score four more times in the next half hour, while Hufflepuff scored twice. “Seventy-twenty in favor of Gryffindor,” announced Sirius, not bothering to stifle a huge yawn. He had a tendency to become loudly bored when the matches were not exciting enough. “Hufflepuff in possession — not for long, though, judging by the angle on that Bludger…”

The Bludger whacked one of the Hufflepuff Chasers on the back of the head, causing him to drop the Quaffle. James dived, twisting on his broom so that he was upside-down, and he caught the Quaffle as it slammed into his chest. Righting his broom, he swerved around one of the Hufflepuff Beaters, towards Longbottom, who was waiting for him —

A flash of gold glinted in the hoop to Longbottom’s left. 

“Parvana!” bellowed James, throwing the Quaffle as hard as he could at the hoop to the right.

Longbottom lunged to the side, and the motion seemed to startle the Snitch, which shot upward. Parvana had already begun to dive, though, and she met the Snitch at the goalposts, barreling through the middle hoop as her fingers closed around the fluttering golden ball.

 

* * *

 

The Gryffindor common room that evening was full to bursting with students celebrating their victory over Hufflepuff. Crimson and gold confetti rained down from the ceiling, getting in hair and on robes and accumulating underfoot like snow. At one end of the room, a table was set up with food and drinks — mostly Butterbeer, along with a few scattered bottles that smelled of something stronger. Sally Dearborn, a sixth year and Gryffindor’s resident artist, had hung a massive, enchanted poster over the fireplace, which flickered as it depicted the highlights of the match.

James was sitting with a group by the fire, one arm draped around the back of the couch and the other holding a large silver goblet full of amber liquid. Taking a drink, he felt a warmth begin in his stomach and spread up his chest and to his neck. He passed the goblet to Sirius, who was sitting at his feet, shoulder-to-shoulder with Parvana. Sirius took a long pull from the goblet and then whooped, jumping to his feet and pulling Parvana up with him. “Who wants to duel?” he asked, his eyes bright. A few students cheered; some shook their heads, smiling. “Parvana, fancy a go?”

“Sure,” she said, reaching up to tighten her ponytail. “Don’t cry when I steam into you, too, though.”

“Phrasing!” cried Sirius, looking elated. “Don’t let McGonagall hear. What say you, James?”

“’Course I’m in.” 

“Don’t forget about me!” said a voice at his side. Marlene had joined them, her cheeks flushed and her short blonde hair sticking up in all directions. “Yoo-hoo,” she called, waving to a table in the corner. James’ stomach gave a jolt; Lily was sitting there with a couple of friends, clutching a mug of Butterbeer.

“Come on, Lil,” said Marlene. “Make us proud.” 

Sirius raised his eyebrows as Lily slid off her chair to join the group. “Well, well. I didn’t know you liked duelling, Evans.”

“What can I say? I’m full of surprises.” There was a mischievous light dancing in her emerald eyes, and James had to force himself not to stare.

In the end, it was decided that there would be a tournament, and couches and armchairs were shoved to the sides of the room to clear enough space for the duelers. Sirius declared himself both referee and contestant, and announced that only fifth-years and up would duel, much to the disappointment of the younger students. This ended up being for the best; even among the upper years, most of the students were quite bad at duelling. The majority of matches ended after only a couple of hexes, although Otis Podmore pulled off a Shield Charm to general applause, and Peter managed to Disarm Parvana in an upset that had the whole room shouting and stamping their feet.

In the second round, Marlene faced off against Remus, and James noticed Lily biting her nails as she watched. Marlene was quick and fierce, weaving from side to side as she fired off hexes one after the other. Remus, on the other hand, parried her spells with a certain deliberateness, his wand movements steady and sure. Finally, he found an opening and hit her with a Knockback Jinx with such strength that Marlene was lifted off her feet. As she flew through the air, however, she managed to cast a Stunning Spell that rendered Remus unconscious before she slammed into the wall, resulting in Sirius calling the match a draw.

Lily and Peter went next. To James’ surprise, she won handily, casting a Full-Body Bind on Peter after he fumbled a Shield Charm. 

“If I didn’t know better,” James mumbled to Peter, helping him off the floor, “I’d say you threw the match on purpose.”

Peter’s ears reddened. “I — er — thought you might want the chance to duel her yourself. If you win this round, that is.”

James grinned. “You’re a pal, you know that?” He clapped Peter on the back and stepped into the centre of the room to face off against Sirius, who quirked an eyebrow as James pulled his wand from the pocket of his jeans. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Sirius, signalling for the room to quiet down, “the final match of the second round. Will the victor be the devilishly handsome, the most noble, the most refined House of Black? Or will it be House Potter, the boyish firebrand who could really use a haircut, not to mention a shag?”

“Keep talking, Black,” said James, aware of Lily’s eyes on him. “Time to put a Galleon where your mouth is, I think. _Aurum rumina!_ ”

Sirius retched, doubling over as coins poured first from his mouth, and then his ears. James fired off his next hex, but Sirius twirled his wand and cast a nonverbal Shield Charm, deflecting the hex. Protected by the strength of his Shield Charm, Sirius passed the tip of his wand over his face, his brow furrowed in concentration. Immediately, the coins vanished, and Sirius straightened up, grinning somewhat madly. He Vanished his Shield Charm and advanced on James, slashing his wand through the air.

James had to roll to avoid Sirius’ curse, grabbing a handful of confetti off the ground as he did so. Coming to his feet, he tossed the confetti above his head. “ _Alliago!_ ” he yelled, and the confetti turned into tiny red and gold darts which hung motionless in the air for a moment before accelerating towards Sirius, who dove out of the way.

Their duel continued, equal parts playful and earnest. Sirius’ spells were stronger, but James was the more clever fighter. After one of Sirius’ curses grazed James' shoulder, James retaliated by Transfiguring the rug beneath their feet into a large red net, which wrapped itself around Sirius’ legs, causing him to fall over and the wand to clatter from his hand.

“Ladies and gentlemen, there you have it,” said Sirius, panting as he scrambled into a sitting position. “Having narrowly defeated the daring and able House of Black, Potter advances to the finals, where he will face the formidable Lily Evans. Peter, if you’d be so kind as to bring me another firewhisky, House Black would owe you a life debt…”

“Last chance to forfeit, Evans,” said James, grinning at Lily as she stepped into the middle of the room. “I’m not going to go easy on you just because you’re the prettiest witch this side of the Black Lake.”

To his surprise, Lily didn’t get angry; instead, she smiled and extended her hand for him to shake.

“May the best wizard win,” she said. “Or witch, as the case may be.”

Sirius took a swig from the silver goblet and pressed his wand to his throat, amplifying his voice so that he could be heard over the crowd.  “Lily Evans, James Potter, are you ready?”

James nodded, his eyes fixed on Lily, who stood across the room from him. A small, unexplainable smile still danced around her lips.

“You may draw your wands," said Sirius. "On my mark…”

James moved before Lily had a chance to react. “ _Calvario_!” She ducked, narrowly missing the bolt of silver light that had emitted from his wand. Spinning, she brought her wand over her head and pointed it at him with both hands. She narrowed her eyes, murmuring under her breath, and a web of electricity streamed from the end of her wand, reaching James, encompassing him…

“ _Arania alliago_!” shouted James, and the web collapsed in on itself before reforming into an enormous, shimmering spider, its limbs crackling with electricity as it advanced on Lily.

“ _Arania recanto_!” she cried, waving her wand, and the spider vanished with a crack like a lightning bolt. She threw three more spells at James in quick succession, but in the time it had taken her to deal with the spider, he had gotten a Shield Charm off, and all of her spells ricocheted uselessly away. Lily swore in frustration and slashed her wand through the air like a sword, sending a barrage of hexes towards James which did nothing more than glance off his Shield Charm.

James grinned, making a show of putting his hands behind his head as a well-placed Jelly-Legs Jinx cracked his Shield Charm. “By the way, Evans. Wanna go out with me?”

“In — your — _dreams —_ ” She punctuated her words with one spell after another, until finally his Shield Charm shattered under the barrage of hexes.  

“Ah, but that wasn’t a ‘no’,” he said, dodging her Trip Jinx and casting a Tickling Charm, which curved in midair to hit Lily between the ribs. She fell to the floor, clutching her sides with laughter. As he advanced on her, however, she pointed her wand at him despite her helpless giggles, and her eyes narrowed in concentration. A jet of water shot out of the tip of her wand, barreling towards him.

 _Godric’s teeth_ , he thought. Of course she was good at nonverbal spellcasting.

“ _Glacius,_ ” he said quickly, and the jet of water froze in midair. “ _Reducto_.”

The ice exploded, sending millions of shards flying in all directions. Lily’s laughter turned into a shriek, and she barely managed to roll out of the way. James waved his wand, muttering an incantation, and the ice shards rose off the ground, coming together to form an enormous bouquet of sculpted roses. With another flourish of his wand, the roses turned a glistening pink.

“For a maiden most fair,” he said, bowing as he offered her the icy bouquet. “Though the color might clash with your hair, I’m afraid.”

Lily got shakily to her feet, still hiccuping from James’ Tickling Charm. “You know what your problem is, Potter?”

“I’m too clever by half?”

“You talk too much,” she said. “ _Langlock_!”

James felt his tongue stick itself to the roof of his mouth. Spluttering, he pointed his wand at her, trying to pronounce a hex, _any_ hex. Maybe a Stunning Spell would work — 

“ _Thubeby!_ ” A pathetic shower of sparks emitted from his wand, and Lily tilted her head to one side, amused.

James could hear the crowd’s cheers — Sirius’ whoops were drowning out the others — and his shoulders sagged. He had always been shite at nonverbal spells, but maybe he could pull off something simple. Concentrating as hard as he could, he tried to disarm her nonverbally.

Lily's wand twitched in her hand, and she looked down at it and then back at him, grinning. His heart sank as he tried to pull his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“Sev is really quite clever, isn’t he?” she asked, advancing until they were nearly nose-to-nose. Separated only by the bouquet of roses, which was beginning to melt in his hands, she was so close he could see a tiny speckle in her left eye. His pulse quickened even as his thoughts slowed to a stop. She was _right there_ —  

Lily smiled angelically. She pressed her wand to his chest.

“ _Depulso_!”

James felt the bouquet shatter into a thousand pieces as he was thrown across the room, skidding into one of the couches as the crowd thundered their applause. Lily was still smiling as he staggered to his feet. Without saying a word, she raised her arm into the air and he felt his wand leave his grip, flying across the room and settling effortlessly into her outstretched hand.

 

* * *

 

Severus sat on his bed, knees drawn up to his chest as he watched Mulciber move silently about the darkened dormitory. It was nearly midnight — nearly time to meet Lucius in Dungeon Thirteen. Mulciber cast a derisive glance at him as he pulled his robes on.

“You coming or what?”

Severus shrugged, but he picked up his wand from the bedside table and stood up, following Mulciber out of the dormitory. Avery was waiting for them outside the Slytherin common room. 

“How were prefect rounds?” asked Mulciber, yawning loudly.

“Fine,” said Avery, tucking his prefect’s badge into his robes. “Loads of Gryffindors celebrating their big Quidditch win by shagging each other behind tapestries. Not your girl, though,” he added, glancing at Severus. “Reckon she stayed in her common room like a good little teacher’s pet.”

Mulciber snorted as the three set off into the labyrinth-like dungeons. “Do you know where we’re going, Severus?”

“I have an idea.”

“Really?” said Avery, glancing at either end of the corridor. “I don’t know about you, but _my_ invitation said to meet in Dungeon Thirteen, which is inconvenient, since Hogwarts only has twelve dungeons.”

“Right,” said Severus sarcastically. “Lucius just happened to organize a meeting in a room that doesn’t exist.”

“Lead the way, then, if you’re so sure,” said Mulciber, shoving Severus ahead of him. Severus cast them both a scathing look but kept walking. 

Avery began to protest once he realized where they were going. “But Dungeon Twelve is _that way_! We’re going in the wrong direction!”

“Did the invitation say to meet in Dungeon Twelve?” asked Severus. 

“Well, no, but — ”

“Then why, in the name of Salazar’s serpent, would we go to Dungeon Twelve?”

“Erm,” said Avery. “Because thirteen comes after twelve?”

Severus couldn’t keep himself from rolling his eyes. “ _Thirteen comes after twelve_. Brilliantly reasoned, Avery.”

“What’s your great plan, then?” demanded Mulciber. “Because it looks like you’re planning on leading us out of the dungeons entirely — ” 

“Avery,” said Severus, cutting Mulciber off, “While you were rounding, did you happen to notice the Wandering Stairs anywhere?”

“Oh!” said Avery. “Yeah, I did. It’s on the third floor tonight, by the Charms corridor.” 

“Perfect,” said Severus as the trio ascended the marble staircase, their footsteps echoing in the silence. Once they reached the third floor landing, Severus heard Mulciber mutter _,_ “ _Lumos,”_  and a dim light illuminated the dusty corridor in front of them.

“This way,” said Avery, pushing Severus aside as he strode up to the brass doorknob that jutted out from the stones in the wall. He twisted the doorknob and the wall swung open. Avery ushered the other two inside as if using the Wandering Stairs had been his idea, and Severus fought the urge to hex Avery’s prefect’s badge up his nose.

“Dungeon Thirteen,” said Mulciber confidently. The torches on the walls dimmed for a moment, as if the staircase was hesitating, and then Severus felt the ground under his feet shake slightly as a light appeared at the top of the stairs.

“That _worked_?!” exclaimed Avery. “I don’t believe it!”

“I knew there was a reason we kept you around, Sev,” said Mulciber, and Severus twitched. Hearing Lily’s nickname for him out of Mulciber’s mouth made him want to curse something.

They reached the top of the stairs and stepped into what looked like a posh sitting room. Everything was immaculately white with golden accents, from the ornate hearth, inlaid with gold, to the gauzy curtains that covered the tall windows. A soft light seemed to be filtering in through the windows, despite the fact that it was midnight and that they were almost certainly in the dungeons. Severus couldn’t keep an expression of surprise from his face. _This_ was Dungeon Thirteen? 

Across the room, Bella was sitting primly in a high-backed white armchair, wrapped in a baby blue silk robe and sipping a cup of tea. She smiled cheerily upon making eye contact with Severus and waved a pinky finger at him.

“Good show,” said an appreciative voice, and Severus turned to see Lucius Malfoy standing beside him. “I must say, I’m impressed. Whose idea was it to use the Wandering Stairs?”

“Mine,” said Avery immediately.

Bella barked a laugh. “He lies, Lucius!”

Lucius raised his eyebrows. Avery grimaced and jerked his head towards Severus. “Fine, it was his idea, but I’m the one who knew where it was!”

“An impressive feat, I’m sure,” said Lucius smoothly, moving to sit beside Bella. “Why don’t you all join us? Tea, Severus?” 

Severus nodded and Bella handed him a tiny china cup filled with emerald green tea as he settled into the armchair beside her. The other recruits took seats in similar, high-backed armchairs as Severus sipped at his tea. He, Mulciber and Avery were the only fifth years, but he recognized a couple of sixth years — Wilfred Wilkes and Evan Rosier —  and one tall, barrel-chested seventh year who played Beater on the Slytherin Quidditch team.

“Thank you for responding to our invitation,” said Lucius, taking the seat on Bella’s other side as he cast his eyes imperiously about the room. “We were expecting a few more guests, but seeing as they have failed to arrive by midnight, we will consider their invitation declined.”

He raised a hand and a heavy bolt fell across the golden door at the end of the room, locking it from the inside. A few people looked surprised at this casual display of wandless magic, and Avery nearly spit out his tea, but Severus remained impassive. Lucius probably had his wand up his sleeve, or else Bella was the one who had locked the door while the others’ eyes were on Lucius.

“I would like to congratulate you all on successfully completing your first task as an Intent — finding your way to Dungeon Thirteen. It is said that only those who are destined for greatness are able to find its entrance. I am relieved so many of you have made it; it portends good things for this group of Intents.”

Severus wanted to roll his eyes out of his head. Proclaiming they were special because they had found a hidden room at Hogwarts? Hogwarts was an enormous castle that had been steeped in magic for centuries. It had _hundreds_ of hidden rooms. You had to actively bumble around with your eyes closed to avoid running into one. 

“As Intents, you are expected to form the bonds of brotherhood,” continued Lucius.  “This requires spending time together. You will rise together in the mornings to exercise during the week. You will eat meals together. You will be responsible for cleaning the Slytherin common room, except on weekends. Once a week, you will meet as a group and Bella will guide you through a bonding activity.”

Severus wondered how much trouble he would get in if he hurled his teacup at Lucius’ impeccable robes. He had thought this meeting would be about proving his ability in the Dark Arts, not — he gritted his teeth involuntarily — _bonding activities._ He had a sudden, horrible vision of being made to paint Mulciber’s nails. It was like something out of his worst nightmares.

Bella nudged him as she stood up, bringing him out of his reverie. “Intents will also be responsible for making a pledge to show their commitment to the brotherhood —or sisterhood, as the case may be,” she added, tossing her hair. “Pledges are limited only by your imagination, so _don’t_ be boring. In the past, we’ve had brothers bring us Dark family heirlooms, or curses from foreign magical traditions, or offerings in the form of Galleons.” She sighed dramatically, making it abundantly clear just how pedestrian she considered such monetary donations.

“The process starts on Monday, so be prepared,” Lucius said, getting to his feet. “I regret that I must be off, but I look forward to hearing reports of your progress. Bella, dear…” The two exchanged air kisses before Lucius swept out the golden door, which unlatched itself as he approached and clanged shut behind him. 

The room filled with hushed conversation as soon as Lucius had left. Severus leaned back in his chair, massaging his forehead with his fingertips. The Dark Lord required _bonding activities._ He would have preferred torture.

Mulciber leaned over and plucked the teacup out of Severus’ hands, taking a long drink from it. “So it begins, eh, Sev?”

He _definitely_ would have preferred torture.

 

* * *

 

During the next few days, the Intents began to establish a routine — rising together before the rest of the castle was awake, running drills outside on the grounds, eating together, and spending evenings studying together in Dungeon Thirteen, whose golden door began to appear randomly throughout the dungeons whenever Severus was alone. Apparently, once found, the room made itself difficult to lose again.

Severus was surprised to discover that he didn’t actually mind spending so much time with the other Intents. Granted, Avery would always be a bit of an annoying prat, and Mulciber continued to remind him of an overgrown, semi-intelligent bulldog, but the other Intents were alright.

The worst part was that he no longer had time to spend with Lily. He switched tables to work with Mulciber during Potions on Monday, something Lily was visibly hurt by, but Severus was able to placate her after class by telling her that Mulciber had bullied him into switching. This wasn’t true, strictly speaking, but it was definitely something Mulciber was capable of, and Lily seemed to swallow the lie without too much questioning. Severus sensed that she didn’t entirely believe him, but she was willing to pretend for their friendship’s sake. 

On Tuesday evening, he began to make the long trek from the dungeons to the Astronomy tower for class. As he climbed the stairs to the seventh floor, his stomach gave a sudden lurch. His foot was stuck to the step below him. He tried to pull his leg away, but to no avail, and he swore under his breath. He didn’t remember there being a trick step on this particular staircase —

“Alright, Snivellus?”

James Potter appeared at the top of the steps, flanked by Peter and Sirius, who appeared to be stowing his wand in his robes.

Not a trick step, then. A Sticking Charm.

“Three on one’s not your usual style, Potter,” said Severus, his heartbeat quickening. _Keep talking; stall for time._ “I thought you never gang up on someone unless you have at least four on your side. Where’s Lupin run off to? Did his guilty prefect’s conscience finally grow a backbone to match?”

“He’s ill, actually,” said James. “Touch of the mumblemumps. He’s quite disappointed to have to miss out on this.”

“Pity. Here’s hoping he drops dead,” snapped Severus.

“Shut it, Snape,” Sirius growled. “Remus is twice the wizard you are.”

Severus snorted. “Well, he’s a genius compared to _you_. Not the brightest star in the Black family constellation, are you? Though I shouldn’t be too surprised, considering all the inbreeding has turned your family tree into a single branch —”

Sirius pulled out his wand so quickly that Severus didn’t have a chance to defend himself, and a Stinging Hex struck his cheek with such force that he tasted blood. At the same time, he felt a tugging sensation as his wand left his back pocket; Peter had disarmed him.

“Cowards,” said Severus, relieved that his voice didn’t shake. “Hex me again, you inbred blood traitor —”

“Oh, we will,” said James, advancing down the steps towards Severus. “By the way… does Lily know her lapdog uses such nasty, prejudiced language?” 

Severus spat at him, blood landing on James’ shoes. “Take her name out of your mouth.”

“It’s funny,” continued James, as if he hadn’t heard, “because she’s the reason we decided to have a chat with you. You see, she used a very clever little charm on me the other day, and we couldn’t help but wonder if it was one of your creations.”

“Not to mention that hex you hit me with last Hogsmeade weekend,” Sirius said. “You’re quite the inventor, aren’t you?” 

“Our concern,” said James, coming to a halt a few steps above Severus, “is that you’re in league with the other Death Eater wannabes in your House. I think you’re creating new spells for What’s-His-Name and his followers to use.”

“You’re wrong,” said Severus, trying his best to sound disdainful. “I’m not one of them.”

“Don’t lie,” said James. “I saw you lot yesterday, doing laps around the Quidditch pitch. And Lily herself told me that you’ve been teaching curses to Mulciber. Does a de-boning spell sound familiar?”

Severus felt the blood drain from his face. “No — she wouldn’t… He made me. I didn’t —”

“Right, so that’s a yes,” said Sirius, rolling up his sleeves. “Anyone who would intentionally teach Mulciber a spell like that is a Death Eater in my book. On three, then, James?”

James nodded, drawing his wand and pointing it at Severus’ chest. Severus braced himself for whatever was sure to come. He would not let these cretins have the satisfaction of seeing him afraid.

“One… two —”

“What the hell do you lot think you’re doing?”

Severus’ heart leapt. Mulciber and Avery were standing at the foot of the stairs.

“Dueling in the halls, Potter, Black?” asked Avery as he and Mulciber climbed the stairs to join Severus. “Pettigrew, why are you holding _two_ wands?”

“Not duelling, Edmund,” grunted Mulciber, narrowing his eyes. “These brave Gryffindors are attacking a defenceless student.”

“Bullying, then,” said Avery, shaking his head. “My, my, I can’t imagine Professor McGonagall will be very happy to hear about this… d’you think she’ll settle for just taking points, or will you lot end up in a round of detentions as well?”

“Piss off, Avery,” said Sirius, but he and James backed away. Peter, looking somewhat sheepish, handed Severus his wand back, and the three Gryffindor boys took off.

“Er,” said Severus, glancing at Mulciber and Avery, “thanks. You didn’t have to do that, though…”

“Rubbish,” said Avery. “You’re one of us now, remember? We’re in this together.”

“Did they hurt you?” asked Mulciber. 

Severus shrugged, touching his cheek. “Stinging Hex, nothing serious. I think they used a Permanent Sticking Charm to fix me to the stairs, though…” 

“Oh, that’s a breeze to get rid of,” said Avery, drawing his wand. “They’re not as durable as their name makes them seem.” He pointed his wand at Severus’ foot. “ _Decollisa_.”

Severus raised his eyebrows as he bent to rub his ankle. “I’ll have to remember that one.”

Avery smiled. “Don’t spread it around. That particular counter-charm’s a bit of a family secret. Consider it payment for your de-boning spell, yeah?” 

“We better get a move on,” announced Mulciber, checking his watch, which was inlaid with tiny, pearlescent teeth. “Sunset’s in five, and Professor Vega won’t appreciate if we miss Jupiter’s rising.” 

They made it to the top of the tower just as Professor Vega was shutting the door. Severus headed towards the corner where he usually worked, alone, but Mulciber stopped him.

“Come work with us, Sev. We don’t bite.” He flashed his yellow teeth in a smile.

Severus hesitated, but only for a moment. Nodding, he followed Mulciber to the other side of the tower, where Avery was pulling out his star chart.

As Severus began to set up his telescope, he glanced past the parapet, towards the grounds. The view was different from this side of the Astronomy tower; he could see the Forbidden Forest and the Whomping Willow, whose branches hung motionless, not even swaying in the breeze. 

Severus paused. The Whomping Willow never stopped moving. That was the whole _point_. He swung his telescope downwards, twisting the knobs to get a better look at the tree.  

There were two figures, one of them supporting the other, moving slowly towards the trunk of the Whomping Willow. The taller one was wearing white robes — Madam Pomfrey? And the other, smaller one —

Severus’ breath caught in his throat.

The two lowered themselves into what appeared to be a hole at the base of the tree, and no sooner had they done so then the branches began to move again, swaying with increasing violence.

Severus slowly raised his head from the telescope. There was no doubt in his mind as to who the smaller figure had been.

Remus Lupin was sick, indeed.

 


	5. Moony's Magical Malady

That night, Severus laid awake in bed longer than he should have, his head spinning as he tried to wrap his mind around what he had seen during Astronomy class. He was certain it had been Remus who had slipped into the hole under the Whomping Willow, but hadn't James told him Remus was ill? James was a liar, obviously, but there could have been a grain of truth to what he had said. Severus had seen Madam Pomfrey at the base of the Willow as well, after all.

In the end, Severus decided he would ask Lily her opinion. She was in Gryffindor; maybe she had some insight into Remus' behaviour that had escaped him. Satisfied, he closed his eyes and spent the night's few remaining hours in comfortable, dreamless sleep.

Meeting up with Lily the following day turned out to be more difficult than he had anticipated. It took some doing to ditch Mulciber, who wanted Severus to complete his Potions homework for him, and even after all that effort, he wasn't able to find Lily in any of their usual meeting spots. Evidently, she was no longer waiting for him to spend time with her, a fact which made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

Their afternoon free period was nearly over by the time he finally found her on the sixth floor, her robes rustling against her ankles as she strode down the corridor towards Professor Slughorn's office. Severus caught her by the arm and she turned, her green eyes widening in surprise.

"Sev?"

"I've been looking everywhere for you," he said.

Lily's eyes widened even further. "Really?"

"Really."

"And here I thought you'd forgotten about me again," she said. Her tone was light, but Severus could hear the hurt lingering beneath her words.

"Impossible," he said, pressing all the sincerity he could into his voice. "I understand if you're angry, though. I would be, too, if I was you."

Lily tilted her head, thoughtful. "I wouldn't say I'm  _angry_ , really. It's more… God, Sev, I'm worried about you. There're some nasty rumours about that group of Slytherins you've been hanging round with, did you know that? I mean, they say Mulciber -"

"That's not my choice," said Severus quickly. "Not Mulciber, at least. I told you, he's been making me do his homework for him, it's not like… we're not  _friends_. I promise." He was staring intently at her, trying to convince her of his sincerity, but she wouldn't meet his eyes.

"I just don't want you ending up like them."

"Never," he said. "Though if I grow about three feet and begin to speak in grunts, you'll know Mulciber's rubbing off on me."

Lily smiled a little, the worried line between her brows relaxing. "You think the rumours are true that he's part troll?"

"It's hardly a rumour at this point," said Severus. "Editing the excrement he calls an essay has taught me that there really is no limit to human suffering."

Lily laughed, the sound clear and genuine. "Stop it, you're too much!"

"It's the truth. A part of me dies every time I come across another one of his hideously misspelt words. I think my lifespan's been shortened by half already."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Has anyone ever told you you're a drama queen?"

Severus shrugged. "I seem to remember a certain red-haired girl who'd say something similar whenever I'd make a particularly astute observation…"

"She sounds wise," said Lily. "You should listen to her." She winked at him and began to stride down the corridor, touching his arm to indicate that he should follow.

"Where are we going?" he asked, hurrying to keep up with her.

"Sluggy's office," said Lily. "I've got a question about my independent study."

Severus raised his eyebrows. "Does this mean I get to find out what you're brewing?"

"Maybe. If your Potions knowledge is good enough to read between the lines."

"I taught you everything you know about Potions."

She jostled him with her shoulder, pushing him into the wall. "You taught me everything I know about everything."

"Exactly. I'm sure I can figure out whatever it is you're brewing."

"I wouldn't be so confident," she said. "I believe, in this case, the student has surpassed the master."

"You wish. You stand on the shoulders of giants."

"You're calling yourself a giant now?" she asked. "They're only one degree removed from trolls, you know. You sure Mulciber hasn't rubbed off on you?"

Severus opened his mouth to respond, but her emerald eyes were sparkling with humour as she grinned at him.

They reached Professor Slughorn's office, and the door swung open without their having to knock; evidently, Slughorn had been expecting them. He was reclined comfortably in the chair behind his desk, a box of half-eaten bonbons wrapped in gold foil balanced on his considerable stomach.

"Lily Evans!" Professor Slughorn cried, popping a chocolate into his mouth. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Ah, and I see you've brought, er, Silverus along with you."

Severus cringed, resisting the impulse to hurl Slughorn's box of bonbons at the wall.

"I had a question about my independent study, Professor," said Lily brightly. Professor Slughorn's eyes immediately flickered to Severus, a gesture that was not missed by Lily. "He doesn't know anything about it, sir," she said. "I've kept it secret like you told me to."

"Very prudent of you, my dear girl," Professor Slughorn said, sitting up straighter, which caused the box of chocolates to tumble off his waistcoat and onto the desk. "Very Slytherin, I should say. Bonbon?"

"Ooh, yes, please," said Lily, taking the box from him and picking through the remaining chocolates. "Want one, Sev?"

Severus shook his head, feeling Professor Slughorn's eyes on him again. Despite Severus' obvious skill in Potions, Slughorn had never had much time for him, preferring students who were more boisterous or better-connected. Severus, having all the charisma of a dead toad, was well aware that he would never be a part of the Slug Club. Still, he couldn't deny that the professor's indifference stung a little.

Professor Slughorn's voice jolted Severus out of his thoughts. "I suppose no harm will come if your friend overhears a snippet of our conversation. Can you keep a secret, Sliverus?"

" _Severus_  won't tell a soul," Lily corrected gently, the corners of her mouth twitching. "He's completely trustworthy."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Professor Slughorn, settling back into his chair. "Ask away, then, my dear girl — I would be glad to be of assistance."

"Well, sir," said Lily, "the potion keeps going off whenever I add the rue, and nothing seems to help. I really wanted to figure it out on my own, but I've tried every trick I know and I'm at a bit of a loss as to what I'm doing wrong."

Professor Slughorn scratched his chin. "What time of day do you add the rue?"

"High noon, sir."

"And in what phase of the lunar cycle?"

"Always within three days of the new moon."

Slughorn nodded approvingly. "Do you handle the rue with your bare hands?"

"Never, sir. I always use cloth or gloves."

Professor Slughorn raised his eyebrows. "Dragonhide gloves?"

Lily began to blush, and Severus suddenly realized what the problem was. "Actually, sir," she said, "I've been using gardening gloves that my mum lent me. They're made from cowhide, which is standard for Muggles…"

Professor Slughorn began to chuckle, his belly shaking. "Muggle gloves! From cowhide! Lily Evans, whatever are we going to do with you? Servelus, do you happen to know where Lily went wrong?"

Severus gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to curse Slughorn for both the mispronunciation of his name and the way he laughed at Lily's ignorance. "Rue is a non-magical ingredient, sir," he said flatly. "As such, it should always be handled with dragonhide gloves. The oils from the gloves infuse the rue with trace magical elements, allowing it to blend with the other ingredients in the potion."

Lily looked shocked. "But that's — that's not in any of our Potions texts! Why didn't I ever hear — why didn't anyone ever tell me about that?"

"But it's common knowledge, my dear!" said Professor Slughorn. "Why else do you suppose we require dragonhide gloves starting in fourth year?"

"I don't know," said Lily, putting her hands on her hips. "Because that's just what wizards use?"

Professor Slughorn threw his head back, his entire body jiggling with laughter. "Ah, Lily, you never cease to amaze me! Even after years at Hogwarts, there are still gaps in your knowledge, eh? Although I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, what with your heritage… it makes me wonder what you could achieve if you hadn't been raised by Muggles…"

Lily flushed crimson, the colour spreading down her neck. Severus wished he could sink into the plush carpet of Slughorn's office and disappear.

"Come on, Lily," muttered Severus, taking her arm as she opened her mouth to respond to Professor Slughorn. "You got your answer, let's just go…"

Lily managed to wait until they were out of Slughorn's office before exploding with anger. "What I could achieve if I hadn't been raised by MUGGLES? That's not — he has no right —"

"Well, he's not a complete waste of space," said Severus. "At least now you know —"

"— what everybody else knows except me, apparently!" she said, rounding on him. "You knew, too, don't deny it!"

Severus grimaced. "It's one of those things —"

"Why didn't you say something one of the hundreds of times we've had Potions together? When you saw me using those gloves?"

Somehow, Severus didn't think it would diffuse the situation to tell Lily that he thought it was cute she used her mum's old Muggle gloves to brew potions. "It never really mattered in class, but if you're making a N.E.W.T.-level potion —"

"Which I bet you still haven't figured out —"

"I have a guess." Slughorn's questioning had let enough slip that he actually had a decent idea as to what she was making.

Lily crossed her arms. "Let's hear it, then."

"Well, it's obviously a very sensitive potion if you have to take into account the phases of the moon," Severus said. "And judging from the way Slughorn wanted you to keep it a secret, it's probably something dangerous or valuable. Which leaves us with a few options." He began to tick them off on his fingers. "Amortentia. Polyjuice. Felix Felicis. Wyrmwine and the Drink of Despair are possibilities, but somehow I don't see you agreeing to brew Dark potions. None of these uses rue except Felix and Wyrmwine, and of the two, Felix seems to be more your style. It  _is_ Felix Felicis, isn't it?"

A glance at Lily's face told him that he had been right. "I can't believe you guessed," she said, her shoulders drooping. "Slughorn did want me to keep it a secret, but I also… I also wanted it to be a surprise. I thought maybe after our O.W.L.s, we could, you know, try a little…"

Severus couldn't keep his heart from racing at the thought of taking Felix Felicis with Lily. A lucky day, a perfect day… maybe that would be exactly the push they needed… maybe there was a chance she felt the same…

"Erm, I also had a question for you," he said, shaking his head a little to clear the images that were swirling around his mind. "You know Lupin? Remus Lupin?"

"Of course, he's in my year," said Lily, biting her lip and looking at him with sudden apprehension. "Is this about Potter and Black? What they did yesterday?"

Severus blinked. "You know what they did yesterday?"

Lily smiled sadly. "Sev. You've got a welt the size of a Galleon on your cheek."

Severus touched his face, frowning. He didn't make a habit of looking in the mirror. "Ah. Well, this is something separate. Sort of." He told her what James had said about Remus being sick, and what he had seen during Astronomy class.

By the time he had finished talking, Lily's brow was furrowed. "Well, whatever it is, I wouldn't worry about it," she said, shrugging.

Severus stared at her. "But don't you get it? They  _froze_  the Whomping Willow. Why would Lupin need to do that?" A bolt of inspiration struck him. "You do prefect rounds with him, don't you? Does he ever not show up?"

Lily shook her head, but she wouldn't meet his eye. "I mean, he misses once in a while, but —"

"Did you patrol last night? Did he miss then?"

"I… look, his mother's ill, alright?"

"So it's his mother, now? Does she live under the Whomping Willow?"

"I'm not going to talk to you if you're going to be like this," Lily said. "You don't need to be getting mixed up with Potter and his friends."

"Who said anything about Potter? Is he in on it, too?"

Lily stomped her foot in frustration. "Sev, you are being impossible!" She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and picked up her pace, not waiting for him to catch up.

Severus watched her dark red hair swinging behind her as she rounded a corner and disappeared from his sight. He was certain of one thing: whatever was wrong with Remus Lupin, Lily knew about it, and she didn't want him to find out.

 

* * *

 

"Ready, you lot?" asked James, standing on his bed and shaking his Invisibility Cloak impatiently.

"Born ready," replied Sirius, snatching the Cloak out of James' hands and throwing it around himself. "I've been practising, and I make a  _very_  good ghoul. You ought to hear me scream."

"That was you, then, in the boys' loo?" asked Remus, ducking under the Cloak. "Because the noises you were making reminded me of a lot of things, but a ghoul wasn't one of them."

"You put Moaning Myrtle to shame," agreed Peter, joining Remus and Sirius.

James drew the Cloak around the four of them, checking to make sure their feet weren't visible. "Alright, Operation: Haunted House is a go."

Hidden by the Cloak, they crept downstairs, through the Gryffindor dormitory — James spotted Lily in the corner with a group of students, playing some sort of Muggle board game that involved a lot of many-sided dice — and out the portrait hole. They descended the castle's many floors in silence, narrowly avoiding a pair of Hufflepuff prefects in the Entrance Hall before slipping through the great oak doors and out onto the grounds of Hogwarts.

Sirius let out a loud moan as soon as they were outside, the bitter night air whipping the cloak around their legs.

"Shut it, Banshee Black," said Peter, laughing a little. "Do you want us to get caught?"

"I'm just giving Hogwarts a taste of how good a ghoul I am," said Sirius. "I'm waiting till we reach the Shack to really let loose."

"Merlin help the unsuspecting inhabitants of Hogsmeade," said Remus. "It's bad enough they have to listen to the howls of an  _actual_ monster every month…"

Nobody laughed.

"You lot are so P.C.," said Remus. "That was a  _joke_."

"You should try being funny next time," offered Peter. "It might help."

"The full was that bad, eh, Moony?" said James, guiding them towards the Whomping Willow.

Remus tried to shrug, a difficult feat considering he was sandwiched between Sirius and Peter. "Nothing too out of the ordinary. Got a scratch on my embarrassing bits. It wouldn't stop bleeding so I had to show Madam Pomfrey. Loads of fun, that was."

"I'll have to remember that one," said James. "Poppy is a ten."

Sirius snorted. "Poppy is a seven-point-five on a good day.  _I'm_ a ten."

"Yeah," said James, "But I'm not trying to get you to look at my embarrassing bits, am I?"

"So you agree I'm a ten."

"I agree you're a self-centred git —"

"Quiet!" Peter whispered suddenly, and the group froze. Peter gave orders rarely enough that when he did, it was cause to pay attention. "I heard something. Footsteps."

The four boys turned as one to look behind them. "Nobody there," said Sirius. "Probably Hagrid —"

"Well, there's an easy way to tell for sure," said Remus, drawing his wand. " _Homenum revelio_."

Immediately, a bolt of light shot out of his wand, streaking towards the Forbidden Forest. At the edge of the trees, the light unfolded like a blanket overtop of a small, skinny figure before rushing back into Remus' wand.

Sirius was out from under the Cloak before James could stop him, striding towards the figure with his wand out. James followed him, whipping off the Invisibility Cloak and flinging it to the ground.

" _Stupefy_!" cried Sirius, and a burst of red light struck the trees. "Where'd he go, that slimy sneak —"

"Sirius, don't," said Remus, jogging to keep up. "It's past curfew, don't draw attention —"

"He's gotta be Disillusioned or something," said Peter, looking around wildly. "Do that spell again, Remus…"

But James was way ahead of him. " _Homenum revelio_ ," he said, firing off one spell after another as quickly as he could. " _Homenum revelio, Homenum revelio, Homenum revelio…"_

"You really need to learn how to cast non-verbally, mate," said Sirius, breaking into a sprint as James' spells illuminated a dark shape running back up to the castle. Whoever it was had a large lead; the oak doors opened slightly and slammed shut again just as Sirius reached the bottom of the stone steps.

Panting, Sirius sat down on the steps, waiting for the others to join him. James reached him first and Sirius stood, letting James throw the Invisibility Cloak around their shoulders. Peter made it to the steps next and promptly disappeared under the Cloak, while Remus waited patiently by the Whomping Willow for the group to join him once more.

"I think that was Snape," said Remus seriously once James had draped the Cloak around him.

"You don't say," muttered Sirius, waving his wand at a stick laying on the ground. The stick hovered in the air for a moment before Sirius, with a flick of his wand, sent it through the branches of the Whomping Willow to touch a knot at the base of the tree. Immediately, the Willow's thrashing branches stilled, and the four boys crept towards the hole that lay hidden in the tree's roots.

"Was he  _following_  us?" asked Peter, sliding down into the tunnel.

"That's what it looked like," said Sirius as he followed Peter down the hole. Turning, he extended an arm towards Remus, who pretended not to notice as he lowered himself gingerly into the tunnel.

"D'you think he suspects…?" asked Peter, leaving the end of the question dangling in the air.

James folded the Invisibility Cloak over his arm and jumped into the tunnel, nearly knocking Sirius over as he did so. "Snivellus doesn't know anything. There's no way."

"But we just had a full moon," said Remus, his forehead creasing with worry. "He could have noticed I was missing — maybe Madam Pomfrey said something —"

"Poppy's not an idiot, she wouldn't do something like that," said James.

Sirius grunted his agreement as they began to make their way to the Shrieking Shack. The tunnel was so small that they had to bend nearly double as they walked to avoid scraping their backs.

"We should be more careful from now on," said Remus as they reached the end of the tunnel. "Especially if Snivellus has decided to play detective."

"Agreed," said James, hoisting himself out of the hole and into the Shrieking Shack. The others followed suit, dusting off their knees and surveying the decrepit room. "And Moony, if he gives you any trouble — if he even looks at you wrong — you tell us, and we'll take care of it."

"Banshee Black will lure him to an untimely demise," said Sirius, cupping his hands to his mouth and letting out a loud, suggestive moan that rose into a bloodcurdling scream.

"That's very kind of Banshee Black," replied Remus, tapping his wand against a chair. Immediately, thick black smoke began to pour out of his wand, filling the room and leaking through the boarded-up window into the air outside.

"I live to please," said Sirius. He touched his wand to his throat to amplify his voice and let out another long, vulgar moan. Peter whooped with laughter, banging his arms against the walls, and Sirius stopped moaning long enough to pull a bottle from his robes. He took several gulps before passing it to Remus.

"Excellent start," said James, his eyes gleaming as he pulled out his own wand. "Now, show me why they call this the most haunted house in Britain."

That night, the villagers of Hogsmeade were kept awake by the screams and wails coming from the Shrieking Shack, often accompanied by bangs and flashes of light. At one point, the house shook violently from top to bottom, knocking tiles off the roof and into the decrepit garden. By morning, though, the Shack stood still and silent; and if anyone noticed at breakfast that the fifth-year Gryffindor boys looked a little worse for the wear, nobody said anything.

 

* * *

 

Lily was entirely engrossed in Professor Walog's Arithmancy lecture when she felt something nudge at her leg. She jumped a little in surprise, her quill streaking ink across her parchment. Glancing down, she saw a tiny, origami dog pressing its paws against her ankle. It wagged its tail excitedly as she bent to pick it up, pretending that she had dropped her quill. She placed the origami dog carefully in her lap and unfolded it, trying not to let Professor Walog see.

She recognized Severus' cramped, spiky handwriting at once.  _Meet me in Dungeon Six after lunch_ , the parchment read.  _Overheard something important. Need your opinion_.

She scribbled a quick response, keeping one eye on Professor Walog _. Please tell me this isn't about Potter and his mates._  She tapped the note with her wand, watching as it folded itself into a paper cat, which stretched lazily before jumping off her lap and strolling towards the back of the room.

A reply came in the form of a tiny eagle which beat its wings against her shins.  _Just come, will you? I'll be waiting._

After class, she ate lunch with Mary and Marlene, who was bemoaning the E she had gotten on her latest essay for Muggle Studies ("How was I supposed to know dirigibles aren't a common means of Muggle air transportation? Lily, you're  _sure_  you've never ridden in one?"). Across the hall, Severus was trying to catch Lily's eye from the Slytherin table, but she was determined not to look at him.

Against her better judgement, she excused herself from lunch early, leaving Mary and Marlene to debate whether a dirigible was the same thing as a hot air balloon. Severus had already left the Great Hall, and, true to his word, he was waiting for her in Dungeon Six when she arrived.

"Alright, spill it," said Lily, pulling the door shut behind her. Dungeon Six was covered from floor to ceiling in mirrors of varying shapes and sizes, reflecting light in all directions. As a result, the room was utterly dazzling, which always made her feel slightly off-balance.

"They snuck out last night," Severus said at once, almost bouncing with excitement. Whatever he had overheard, he was clearly dying to talk about it.

"Who's 'they'?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Lupin! With Potter and his other mates. They've got an Invisibility Cloak, by the way. I'd bet you anything that's how they get away with what they do, you might want to tell McGonagall —"

She sighed. "Look, Sev —"

"Lily, would you please just listen?" he said. "Judge me later, if you must. But I really need to talk about this with someone."

Lily furrowed her brow. It wasn't like Severus to be so forthcoming. And it  _really_ wasn't like him to say 'please'.

"Fine," she said, and Severus' expression changed to one of relief. "So they snuck out, big deal."

"Right," he said, all of his words tumbling out of him at once. "And I heard Lupin talking about Hogsmeade, and the howls of a monster, and something that only happens once a month, and then Potter said something about a 'full' —"

Lily's eyebrows arched further and further up her forehead as he talked. "So?"

"Don't you see?" said Severus. "The  _howls_ of a monster? Interesting word choice, right? And 'full', I think that's short for 'full moon', which is something that happens once a month —"

"We should probably head to Potions," interrupted Lily, checking her watch.

"Why don't you want to talk about this with me?" said Severus, catching her wrist. She startled, jerking her arm away.

"I just don't think this is good for you, this new obsession with Potter and his mates —"

" _Lupin is a werewolf_!" he hissed.

Lily blinked.

"Right," she said slowly, drawing out the word to give herself time to think. "First off, I think that's really unlikely."

"But it makes sense!" protested Severus. "What other monster do you know that's associated with the full moon? That  _howls_?"

"Are you sure it wasn't just some weird inside joke between Potter and his mates?"

"It wasn't a joke," said Severus. "I'm certain of it. I checked my Astronomy charts and it was a full moon the night I saw him at the Whomping Willow."

"You mean you saw someone you thought  _might_ be him —"

Severus was frowning at her now. "Why won't you acknowledge what I'm saying? Have you  _known_?"

"Known what?" she snapped. "That he gets ill frequently? Sure. But I highly doubt it's because he's secretly a  _werewolf_ , Sev. Aren't they supposed to be really dangerous? How would Dumbledore allow him near Hogwarts? Near children?"

"I don't know," said Severus, tucking a lank strand of hair behind his ears. "But you have to admit what I heard was suspicious."

"Sure, but Potter and his mates say mad stuff all the time," she said. "You'd have to be mad yourself to take any of it seriously."

"I guess," said Severus, unconvinced.

"Besides," said Lily, feeling suddenly inspired, "This is  _Remus Lupin_  we're talking about. He's a prefect, for God's sake. I always thought werewolves were a little more, I dunno, savage?"

Severus frowned at that. "You might have a point," he said. "You'll let me know if you hear anything else suspicious? Since he's in your House…"

"I'll do no such thing," she said, opening the door to the dungeon to indicate that their conversation was over. "I'm not about to go snooping in the business of other people, and I suggest you do the same. I mean, he's friends with Potter and Black, Sev. Do you really want to give them a reason to target you?"

Severus grunted in response, but he followed her out of Dungeon Six and towards the Potions classroom. She breathed a sigh of relief when he took a seat beside Mulciber, who was evidently still forcing Severus to do his work for him. When Remus walked into the classroom a few minutes later, flanked by his mates, Lily had to will herself not to stare, not to wonder if perhaps Severus had figured out something he shouldn't have.

 

* * *

 

On Saturday evening, Severus met with the other Intents in Dungeon Thirteen for their first — he cringed inwardly —  _bonding activity_. The past week had gone more smoothly than he had anticipated, but even so, he wasn't looking forward to getting to know Avery and Mulciber on a deeper level.

As soon as he stepped into Dungeon Thirteen, however, he realized he needn't have worried. The posh, circular drawing room had been transformed. The white armchairs and the gold embroidered rugs had been relegated to the edges of the room, and Bella stood in the middle, twirling her wand between her fingers.

"Sit," she ordered, pointing at the floor, and Severus took his place next to Evan Rosier and Wilfred Wilkes, the two sixth year Intents. He noticed Rabastan Lestrange, the seventh year Slytherin beater, sitting comfortably close to Bella, as if he wasn't intimidated by her at all.

"I hope you all have had a pleasant first week as Intents," Bella began, her focus on the wand between her fingers. "Spending time together and performing acts of service for Slytherin House builds bonds and improves character. Tonight, we will be doing something entirely different. Who among you has performed an Unforgivable Curse?"

Severus glanced at the others. Nobody moved.

Bella shook her head, but she didn't seem surprised. "And how, exactly, do you expect to serve the Dark Lord if you have not mastered the most important tools in a Death Eater's arsenal?"

Severus raised his eyebrows a little at that. He was no duelling expert, but even he knew it wasn't good to rely too much on a particular spell — or set of spells — when fighting. Any enemy with a modicum of intelligence would learn to see it coming and prepare accordingly. Still, he reasoned, the three Unforgivables were a good a way as any to fill Mulciber's limited brain space, so he couldn't fault Bella for teaching them those curses first.

Wilkes raised a hand. "Who will we be cursing, Bella? Because I can think a few people I'd like to put in their place —"

Bella barked a laugh, startling Severus. "Oh, no," she tutted, giggling a little. "No, Wilfred, you misunderstand. I'm not giving you free reign to terrorize the castle. No, you will learn to perform these curses by practising on one another."

Severus felt his heartbeat quicken. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Mulciber was so excited he was practically wiggling. Perform the Unforgivables? On each other?

"But Bella," said Lestrange, "we've spent all week together. I can't — I mean, how could we curse — we  _know_  each other now!"

Bella's grin grew wider, and her square, white teeth sparkled in the light of the chandelier above them. "Rabastan, my darling," she said, "that is the entire  _point_."

She then began to pair them off, putting Severus with Mulciber, much to his displeasure. He was certain Mulciber would have no problem cursing him, however much time they'd spent together over the past few days.

"Imperius first," ordered Bella, surveying the room haughtily. "It's the easiest one to master. As with all the Unforgivables, simply point your wand, say the words, and  _mean_  it."

Mulciber went first, his wand levelled at Severus's chest. Severus took a deep breath, hoping Mulciber wouldn't force him to do anything  _too_ embarrassing —

" _Imperio_ ," said Mulciber. Nothing happened.

Severus blinked, and Bella laughed.

"Augustus Mulciber the Third!" she cried. "You've been making  _friends_  with little Severus! Who would have thought? You'll have to try harder than that, Augustus! Severus, show him how it's done."

She spoke as if she had complete confidence in him, which meant Severus needed to pull off his Imperius curse on the first try or risk her displeasure, which came in many forms, and none of them was good. Luckily, he still found the idea of cursing Mulciber downright enjoyable. Mulciber may have been kinder to him this past week, but Severus knew that a Wampus didn't change its spots.

Severus could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage as he drew his wand and pointed it at Mulciber. He imagined Mulciber handing over his wand. " _Imperio_."

He felt a sort of warmth flow down his arm and out his wand, and Mulciber's expression changed to a look of stupor before he stepped forward and offered Severus his wand.

"Thanks," said Severus, pocketing it.  _Now give me your robes._

Immediately, Mulciber pulled his robes over his head and handed them to Severus, a dazed look still on his face. Bella shrieked with laughter at the sight of Mulciber standing there in an undershirt and pants, which caused the other Intents to look over at them.

"Very good, Severus!" said Bella, clapping her hands together. "Very, very good! His expression is a little unnatural, of course, but there will be plenty of opportunity to fine-tune that later. I'm proud of you!"

Severus turned towards her, and he felt the connection between himself and Mulciber dissipate. Mulciber frowned as he looked down at himself, standing in his pants.

"My apologies," said Severus, not sounding apologetic at all as he offered Mulciber his robes. "It was the only thing I could think of."

Mulciber shrugged. To Severus' relief, he didn't seem overly embarrassed to have been made to take his robes off. "Honestly, I probably would have done the same," said Mulciber. "My turn, then.  _Imperio_."

Severus found himself seized with the urge to do a handstand, but he was able to resist the impulse. Dimly, he heard Bella telling Mulciber that mere revenge was not a strong enough emotion to drive an Unforgivable Curse. She then dropped her voice, whispering something in his ear. Mulciber's eyes narrowed, and a voice floated through Severus' head.

_Cut your hair off… cut your hair off…_

But he didn't have a knife to cut with. Severus patted the pockets of his robes frantically, looking for something sharp he could use. He heard Bella laugh, as if from a distance, and he suddenly snapped back to reality.

"Nice try, Mulciber! But your own thoughts influenced him too much. You were picturing him using a knife, were you not? The Imperius needs a lighter touch. Severus would have used his wand to curse his hair off, had you refrained from filling his mind with images from your own."

And with that, the training continued until they could all cast at least a rudimentary Imperius curse. Avery made Wilkes kiss Bella on the cheek, and Lestrange forced Rosier to loudly confess an embarrassing fantasy.

Bella had them switch partners for the Cruciatus curse, which proved to be substantially more difficult than the Imperius. None of the Intents were able to harm the others for more than a few seconds at a time, and even then Severus found the pain to be rather underwhelming.

After fifteen minutes of watching them struggle to curse one another, Bella shook her head and raised her hand for them to stop. "I am disappointed," she said. "You must not let the bonds of brotherhood impede you from doing what needs to be done. Sentimentality is weakness."

"I thought you wanted us to care for one another," said Lestrange. Severus wondered if Lestrange was the most willing to challenge Bella because he was the oldest Intent, or because the rumours that Bella was involved with his older brother were true. Probably both.

Bella tilted her head to look at him. When she spoke, her words were icy. "I want to form Intents who are committed to one another and to the cause. Commitment is different than  _care_. It is different than love. A brother who allows his emotions to impede his commitment is a useless brother and a waste of my time. Do I make myself clear?"

They nodded.

"Good," said Bella, her eyes narrowing. "Severus. Show the others what it means to be committed."

Severus drew his wand and turned towards Wilkes, who he had been partnered with, but Bella stopped him.

"No, Severus," she said, laying her hand on his arm. "I want you to curse  _me_."

The other Intents looked at each other, and Severus took a breath. He didn't like being singled out like this — and if he couldn't torture Wilkes, who he hardly knew, how could he perform the Cruciatus on Bella, who had always been kind to him?

Bella smiled sweetly at him, as if she knew exactly what was going through his mind. Severus shook his head to clear his thoughts. Surely she had picked him because she knew he held her in high regard. She expected him to overcome his emotions. To demonstrate commitment.

Severus raised his wand, not daring to think of what would happen if he failed to meet her expectations. He pictured her writhing on the floor, how good it would feel to do what the others couldn't. How good it would feel to hurt her.

" _Crucio_ ," he said, and a jolt of electricity ran down his arm.

Bella screamed; the curse lifted her off her feet and she twisted helplessly in the air, her back bending at unnatural angles. She hit the floor and her body continued to contort itself as she gagged, inhuman noises coming from her throat.

After ten seconds, Severus lowered his wand. He stared down at Bella, who lay in a heap on the ground. A low noise came from her throat, growing louder as she pulled herself to her feet. His heart thumped in his chest. She was  _laughing_.

"You see?" said Bella, throwing her arms out as she spun to face the other Intents. "Severus follows my commands. He trusts I know what is good for him. He will be rewarded beyond his wildest dreams!"

Mulciber was next to cast the Cruciatus curse to Bella's satisfaction, followed by Lestrange. After that, they moved on to the Killing Curse, which they practised first on cockroaches, then on rats, and then on six handsome owls that Bella brought down from the Owlry. Mulciber, in particular, seemed disappointed that they wouldn't practice the Killing Curse on actual humans, but Bella assured him that it was no different than using animals. Severus felt a pang of shame as he killed his owl, a great tawny bird with intelligent yellow eyes. It had to be done, of course, but it was such a waste.

After they Vanished the remains of the animals, Bella dismissed them for the night. Severus hung back, however, under the guise of helping her return the armchairs and tables to their proper places.

"I told you to leave, you know," said Bella lightly, moving one particularly large sofa across the room with a wave of her wand.

"I had a question," said Severus, flicking his wand at the tapestries on the walls, which straightened themselves. "About what I should do for my pledge."

Bella raised an eyebrow. "I was assuming you would create a new spell for us."

"I thought about it," admitted Severus. "But then I discovered something else. What if I told you there was a werewolf at Hogwarts? Could I capture it and deliver it to you and Lucius as a pledge?"

Bella laughed. "You must be joking! There's no way a werewolf could live at Hogwarts. Have you ever met one? The Dark Lord keeps a few as Secondaries, and they are —" she shuddered. "They're awful creatures. They're not  _human_. If there was a werewolf at Hogwarts, we'd know."

"I think this one's different," Severus said. "I think it passes for human better than most."

Bella turned to look at him, her lips pursed thoughtfully. "I believe you, Severus," she said at last. "And I think catching a werewolf at Hogwarts would be a spectacular pledge. It would showcase your talent while damaging Dumbledore's reputation. Imagine, if it got out that the old dotard was sheltering a beast among children! You would certainly capture the Dark Lord's favour with such a pledge."

Excitement swelled in Severus' chest. "I can do it," he said. "You know I have the ability."

Bella smiled and put an arm around him, drawing him close. "Out of all the Intents, you have the most potential," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "That's why I used you as an example tonight. You make me proud."

Severus merely nodded, his mouth dry. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had this much physical contact with another human being. To his surprise, he found that he didn't mind her touch.


	6. Trials and Transfigurations

The twenty-seventh of March was as much a holiday as Halloween or Christmas as far as the students of Hogwarts were concerned; it was James Potter’s birthday, and he was notorious for throwing the wildest celebrations since the Prewetts were in school.

This year, the rumour was that invitations to James’ party had been hidden around the castle, allowing anyone lucky enough to find one to attend. As a result, in the week leading up to the party, multiple classrooms were ransacked, and every time Lily turned a corner she found students peering hopefully into the suits of armour stationed along the corridors. Bertram Aubrey, a Hufflepuff fifth year, even incurred a week’s worth of detention for taking apart the Gryffindor hourglass piece by piece in search of an invitation among the rubies.

Lily, for her part, spent the week leading up to James’ birthday studiously avoiding any sort of situation that might lead to the discovery of an invitation. When walking to class, she kept her eyes trained on her feet, and she outright refused to open any post without Marlene inspecting it first.

On Friday morning, Lily was groggily rummaging through her trunk when her hand brushed against a thick square of parchment, and she froze. There, at the bottom of her trunk, nestled among her undergarments, was an invitation.

Lily felt her cheeks burn. Nevermind that James had gotten past the protections on the girls’ dormitory -- he’d gotten past the locks on her trunk! She snatched the parchment up and unfolded it in her lap.

 _You are cordially invited to a night of debauchery and magical mischief-making in celebration of James Potter’s sixteenth birthday,_ the parchment read. _Meet in the vegetable patch at ten p.m Saturday. Gifts in multiples of sixteen will be accepted. Bring Your Own Broom._

“Ooh, you found an invitation too, Lily?” asked Mary, sitting up in bed and stretching. “That makes all of us, doesn’t it?”

“I didn’t _find_ an invitation,” said Lily. “That implies I made an effort. Someone put this in my trunk. Next to my _knickers._ ” 

“Oh, yeah, that was me,” said Marlene, yawning. Lily’s mouth fell open, but Marlene shrugged at her expression. “James wanted to make sure you knew you were invited.”

Lily frowned at the invitation. “I’m not going." 

“Rubbish, of course you are,” said Marlene. “It’ll be the party of the year.” 

“Yeah, and it’s _Potter’s_ party, which means he’s going to be even more annoying than usual and expect us to fall over at his feet just because he managed to go another year without offing himself —”

“There’ll be loads of people there,” said Parvana, catching Lily’s eye in the mirror she was using to brush out her long, glossy hair. “Those invitations were all over the school. I bet it’ll be so crowded he won’t even notice you.” 

Marlene snorted. “Right. Because of all the people James is likely to forget about, Lily tops the list.”

“Plus, I’m a prefect,” said Lily. “I can’t go. I have to set a good example.”

“Remus is a prefect, too, and I’ll bet every Galleon I own he’ll be there,” said Marlene.

“Yeah,” said Lily, “but he’s not exactly a shining example of good behaviour, is he?”

“You know you want to go,” said Mary. “It’ll be a good time.” 

“ _Potter_ will be there.”

“You’re coming,” said Marlene firmly. “Give him sixteen dungbombs as a gift, if you’d like. But you can’t ditch us.”

Lily knew it was a losing battle. “Fine. But if he asks me out, I’m leaving.” 

Saturday evening, after she had finished prefect rounds, Lily returned to her dorm, where Marlene was waiting for her.

“Mary and Parvana already left,” Marlene informed her. “How long do you need to get ready?” 

“Thirty seconds,” said Lily, pulling her robes over her head.

Marlene raised an eyebrow as Lily pulled on her frumpiest jumper and jeans. “Going for hobo chic, are we?” 

“I don’t want him getting any ideas.”

Marlene grinned. “Not sure how much control you have over that. Let’s go, then.”

Peter Pettigrew was waiting for them at the vegetable patch, sitting on an absurdly large yellow squash. He nodded approvingly at Marlene, who was carrying a broom. “The party’s three miles away, due west,” he told them. “Fly close to the treetops and you can’t miss it.”

Lily climbed onto Marlene’s broomstick, gripping the sides of her waist. As soon as Marlene kicked off, Lily felt bile rising in the back of her throat. She really didn’t think she’d ever get used to flying. They weren’t even wearing _helmets_. 

After a few minutes of soaring above the forest, Lily could just make out in the distance an enormous old oak towering above the other trees, its branches glowing faintly with light. She felt Marlene pull downward on the handle of the broomstick, and she dug her fingers into Marlene’s waist as they began to descend.

A thick, twisting branch extended out from the top of the oak like a crooked finger, wide enough for them to land on. Marlene tugged at the broom, touching down gently on the gnarled branch, and Lily immediately clambered off the broomstick, feeling slightly queasy. As she did so, her head brushed against a couple of leaves, which rustled and began to glow with a cool silver light, illuminating their surroundings.

The wide, curved branch they were standing on sloped downwards, towards the trunk of the tree, which appeared to be swollen, bending around a hollowed-out room inside. The oak’s boughs had been elongated and thickened to form twisting walkways, and as Lily watched, a pair of students holding hands meandered along a far branch and disappeared behind a thick, shimmering cluster of leaves.

Marlene let out a low whistle and reached out to touch the glittering leaves above them. “This is impressive, even for James.”

Lily peered over the edge of the bough, trying to catch a glimpse of the forest floor below, but it was so far beneath her that she couldn’t see the ground. She swallowed nervously before following Marlene across the branch and inside the bulging trunk of the tree.

 There were so many people crammed inside the tree that Lily had to wonder just how many invitations James had hidden. A gramophone in the corner was blaring Muggle rock music so loudly that the floor shook, and the walls gleamed with the same shimmering light as the leaves. An enormous silver pine cone hung from the ceiling, rotating slowly, its gleaming scales throwing light in all directions. The overall effect was dazzling.

“This is awesome,” said Marlene. 

“We are so high up, and only the magic of Potter and his friends prevents us from plummeting to our deaths,” replied Lily.

Marlene shrugged. “I trust them.”

“I think I need a drink.” 

“Ask and ye shall receive,” said a voice, and Lily turned to see Sirius standing behind her, a bright yellow drink in his hand. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail and he sported a garish orange-and-yellow striped pantsuit, complete with flared bottoms and platform shoes.

“Nice outfit,” said Lily, the corner of her mouth twitching. “I think I’ve seen similar in one of my mum’s magazines.”

“Your mum has great taste,” said Sirius. He winked and offered her the drink he was holding. “My own invention. I call it Sirius’ Sunrise Surprise.”

Lily sniffed the drink. To her relief, it smelled like citrus and mint. “This isn’t going to poison me, is it?”

Sirius placed a hand over his heart in mock offence. “Lily ‘Shrinking Violet’ Evans, how dare you accuse me of such a thing? Is it because you don’t trust my drink-making abilities, or because House Black has a long history of poisoning Muggle villagers for sport?” 

“Er, the first one,” she said, taking a sip. It really wasn’t half bad. “Thanks for the heads up about your family, though.”

But Sirius wasn’t listening; someone else had caught his attention and he vanished into the mass of partygoers.

“It’s never a good sign when he’s drunk enough to talk about the House of Black,” said Marlene, standing on her tiptoes and craning her neck above the crowd. “Reckon we should give James our presents?" 

“Might as well,” agreed Lily, downing the rest of her Sunrise Surprise. No sooner had she finished than her skin began to glow a pleasant yellow colour. “Hang on,” she said, examining her arms. “Did Sirius charm…?” 

“‘Course he did,” said Marlene, nodding in approval as the yellow glow shifted to a pale pink. “I like it. Pastels go well with your hair." 

Lily rolled her eyes. 

They approached a table at the edge of the room, which was stacked with enough presents to nearly touch the ceiling, and Lily shook her head. “What kind of person asks for sixteen presents _each_ on their birthday?”

“Trust me, Evans, I’m worth it,” said James, walking up to them. He wore a golden crown inlaid with rubies, and Lily had a sneaking suspicion that if she counted the number of gems they would total sixteen. 

“Nice crown,” said Marlene, smirking a little. “A Potter family heirloom?”

“Au contraire, ma amie,” said James, taking the crown off his head and twirling it around his wrist. “You’re looking at what was formerly a bird’s nest.”

“A bird’s nest?!” exclaimed Lily before she could stop herself. “But that’s — that’s really advanced Transfiguration —”

 “You say that like you don’t think I’d be capable of such a thing,” said James, sounding offended. “It wasn’t that difficult. It’s not perfect, either, look…”

He held his arm out to her, the crown dangling off his wrist, and she peered at it; a closer inspection revealed that the crown had a slightly twiggy look to it that its sheen couldn’t disguise.

“All the same,” said Lily begrudgingly. “I am kind of impressed.” 

You’d have thought she had just asked him to marry her with the way his chest swelled. 

“So what did you lot get me?” asked James, putting the crown rakishly back on his head. 

“Oh, mine’s good,” said Marlene, pushing the jar she was holding into his hands. “Sixteen newt’s eyes, each steeped in a different herbal extract.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Supposedly some have psychoactive properties. I think a couple are poisonous, though. I got ’em in Knockturn Alley, so…”

James laughed. “Marlene, you are a treasure. Thank you! Lily, dare I ask…?”

Lily grinned mischievously and pulled a roll of parchment out of the pocket of her robes. “Enjoy.” 

James unrolled the parchment, pushing his glasses up his nose as he did so. “' _Sixteen Rejections for the Next Sixteen Times James Potter Asks Me Out’_ ,” he read aloud. " _‘Number one: No. Number two: Still no. Number three: Not going to happen_ ’. Huh. Interesting. Anyway, d’you have plans next Hogsmeade weekend?”

Lily laughed in spite of herself. “Refer to rejection number one, Potter.”

“What’s this?” asked Remus Lupin, appearing at James’ side and peering at the parchment. “Something to deflate your head a bit, James? Lily, on behalf of all of us who have to put up with him pining after you on a daily basis, I thank you. From the bottom of my heart.” 

Remus grinned at her, but Lily’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. If it was true, that Remus was what Severus said he was… and if it got out…

“I actually was hoping to see you, Remus,” she said, thinking quickly. “I wanted to touch base about the patrol schedule for this coming week. Shall we?” 

Remus looked as if he’d rather not talk about prefect duties right at that moment, but he obediently followed her out of the trunk of the tree and across one of the many wide boughs, which dipped slightly under their weight. Lily’s stomach lurched again and she quickened her pace to reach the end of the bough, where a hammock made of vines stretched between two smaller branches.

“Er, if we could make this quick, Lily,” said Remus, taking a seat in the hammock, which shimmered and sagged a little under his weight.

“Right, yeah,” said Lily distractedly, joining him in the hammock. She wished she had had a few more Sunrise Surprises before attempting this conversation. Wizarding customs did not come naturally to her, being a Muggle-born, but even she was certain that accusing someone of being a werewolf was not something one could do lightly. “Er, so, did you lot put this treehouse… thing... together?”

Remus nodded. “Easier than it looks, actually. A couple days of skiving off class to Transfigure the tree, some Silencing Charms, a few anti-gravity spells for good measure…”

“I’m glad for the anti-gravity spells, at least,” said Lily, relaxing a little as she watched her feet, now glowing orange, dangle in the air. “I’ve never been a big heights person. Fear of falling to my death and all that.”

Remus shrugged. “There’re worse ways to go. Anyway… the patrol schedule?”

“Er, yeah,” said Lily. “About that. That was kind of a ruse to get you away from the others. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Remus’ eyebrows raised slightly. “I’m all ears.”

“Great,” said Lily, fidgeting. “Look, Remus, I’m not sure what’s going on with you and I don’t care, because it’s not my business, but... ”

Remus’ pleasant expression froze. 

“‘What’s going on with me’?” he repeated, getting up from the hammock. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Oh yeah?” asked Lily. She could feel her heart beginning to pound. “I think you do.”

Remus regarded her warily for a moment. “What is this about, Lily?”

“It’s Severus,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a rush. “He thinks he knows what’s going on with you. About your illness, or your mum’s illness, or whatever it is. He has a theory…”

“A theory?” interrupted Remus, an expression of polite interest on his face. “I didn’t think my life was so interesting as to warrant theories. Is it very interesting, this theory of his?”

“That’s not -- I’m not --” spluttered Lily. “I don’t care about his stupid theory, alright? I just wanted to let you know…”

“But I’d like to hear it,” said Remus. “We could exchange theories if you’d like. My theory is that your dear friend Severus is a malnourished Bowtruckle masquerading as a human being. What’s his theory about me?”

“You know what? It doesn’t matter,” said Lily. “I was just trying to do you a favour --”

“And I appreciate that,” said Remus. “But my curiosity’s piqued now, and I simply must know what sort of interesting ideas dear Severus has about my life --”

“Fine,” snapped Lily, heat rising up her neck. “Why do they call you Moony?” 

“Because I’ve got pockmarks,” said Remus immediately. “You know, more craters than the moon?” 

“You’re impossible,” she said. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” 

“You can tell Severus he’s cracked the case,” said Remus, feigning a yawn. “I suffer from pimples, that scourge of adolescent boys.”

“Must be terrible.”

The corner of Remus’ mouth twisted in an ironic smile. “Quite. Why don’t we rejoin the party?”

Remus had long since vanished into the treehouse by the time Lily stood up from the hammock. _Boys_ , she thought, reaching up to tighten her ponytail. Her hand brushed against some leaves as she did so, disturbing a small, metallic beetle, which clicked its wings and began to buzz around her head.

Carefully, Lily picked her way back to the tree trunk, putting one foot in front of the other on the wide bough. As she pulled open the heavy wooden door to the treehouse, the beetle whizzed past her ear. Inside, it circled the room a few times before flying upwards, landing on the glittering pine cone. It rubbed its shiny wings together, emitting a sort of white powder which fell onto the heads of the students below.

Lily frowned. That wasn’t typical beetle behaviour. 

A flash of gold caught her eye, and across the room she saw James Potter, wearing his crown. He was frowning slightly as he watched the powder drift down from the pine cone. He elbowed Sirius, who looked upward, eyes widening in alarm. Both boys made to grab their broomsticks, which had been propped up against the wall behind them.

Lily glanced back up at the beetle, which hissed loudly before vanishing with a small pop.

Then the treehouse exploded.

 

* * *

  

James had barely managed to grab his broom when the force of the blast knocked him backwards. He collided with the wall, which buckled under the impact, hurtling him out of the tree and sending him tumbling towards the forest floor below.

“ _ARRESTO MOMENTUM_!” bellowed a voice. James’ stomach gave a sudden lurch as if he were being yanked upward by a fishhook in his navel, and his descent stopped, leaving him hanging in midair. As he scrambled onto his broomstick, Sirius swooped down to hover beside him.

“Get the others!” yelled Sirius. He slashed his wand through the air, sending more Slowing Spells streaking off into the night.

James nodded and dove towards the base of the tree as fast as his broom would allow. His knees buckled as he slammed into the ground, but he immediately whirled around, casting Slowing Spells at the students who were still plummeting towards the forest floor.

High above him, the canopy of the tree had been blown clear off. Where the treehouse had been there was nothing but a smoking hole, open to the night sky. As he watched, the hole began to close, the trunk elongating and sprouting new branches. Within seconds, the old oak had completely repaired itself, as if it had never held a treehouse at all. 

James swore under his breath and began to cast Bubblehead Charms at the students who were nearing the ground, sinking slowly through the air as if it was water. Nobody was getting a concussion if he had anything to say about it. 

“James,” called Remus as he fell, “what the actual —”

A Bubblehead Charm muffled the rest of his words, but the meaning was clear.

“The Fall of Troy,” grunted James as Remus landed in a large pile of wet leaves, the impact popping the Bubblehead Charm. “Someone’s idea of a prank.”

“Merlin’s left tit,” swore Remus. “What sort of lunatic would think it was _funny_ to watch us all fall to our deaths?”

 “Oh, you wouldn’t have _died_ ,” sneered a voice behind them. James turned, anger flaring in his chest as Mulciber stepped out from behind the trees, flanked by Severus and Avery. “Permanent disability, maybe, but pure-bloods at least are resistant to the regular ways of dying. Your mudblood friends, on the other hand…”

“Use that word again and I’ll turn your blood into terra cotta,” snapped Lily, striding towards them with her wand out. To James’ great relief, she was unharmed, though there were mud stains on her jeans and jumper, and she seemed to be glowing pink. “I’m a prefect, and I demand you tell me what you lot are doing here.” 

“So’m I,” said Remus, scrambling up from the leaf pile and pointing his wand at the group of Slytherins. “And I’d like to know the same.” He glanced at Lily, and something unspoken passed between them that James could not decipher.

“I’m a prefect as well,” said Avery, smirking. “And as we’ve discovered an illegal, off-grounds party, I’m afraid we have no choice but to turn you in. What do you think McGonagall will say when she discovers that you were endangering student lives with experimental Transfiguration, Potter?” 

“The only people endangering lives were you lot,” snapped James. “Which one of you geniuses thought it was a smart idea to try and blow us all up using the Fall of Troy?” 

Lily glanced at him, wrinkling her brow. “The Fall of Troy?”

“Also known as Untransfiguration powder,” said James quickly, his eyes on Mulciber, who was openly grinning at Lily’s question. “You know, the time the Greeks Transfigured their entire army into a wooden horse? And once they were inside Troy they used this powder to Untransfigure themselves and won the Mycenaean War?”

“Muggles have a different version of that story,” said Lily darkly. Her eyes flickered to Severus, who was determinedly examining a spot on the ground.

There was a crash behind them, and James turned to see Sirius skidding through the leaves on his broom, Peter landing rather more gracefully beside him.

“Hang on a minute,” said Sirius, his eyes on the group of Slytherins as he dragged his broom to a stop. “Did YOU LOT do this? What the ACTUAL —”

“Old news, mate,” said Remus, his wand still level with Mulciber’s chest.

“You can put your wand away, Lupin,” said Mulciber, sounding bored. “Unless you want to add duelling to the growing list of infractions you’ve committed tonight…”

“It’s five on three, genius,” said Sirius, striding forward till he was nearly nose-to-nose with Mulciber. “How much you want to bet we just Stun you lot and leave you here as a midnight snack for the Acromantulas?" 

“Actually,” said Mulciber, “It’s seven on five, our favour. But I forgive you for not knowing how to count.”

Lily made a small squeaking noise as four more Slytherin students stepped towards them from the shadows. James recognized a few of them -- one was Rabastan Lestrange, a Beater on Slytherin’s Quidditch team, and beside him was Bella Black. She waved cheerily at Sirius, whose expression darkened at the sight of her.

“We could still take you,” growled Sirius, but James shot him a warning glance and he lowered his wand.

Bella laughed. “What a good lapdog my cousin is! Does he come when he’s called, as well?” 

“Why don’t you try it and we’ll find out?” snarled Sirius, clenching his fists. 

“Enough, Sirius,” said James, his heart sinking. They were well and truly caught. “We’ll go with you,” he said to Mulciber. “But Sirius, Remus, Peter and I were the ones who threw this party. We Transfigured the tree. Lily and the others had nothing to do with it.”

“Taking responsibility, are we, Potter?” said Mulciber, his eyes sparkling with malice.

“Sometimes I even surprise myself,” replied James, tucking his wand into the pocket of his jeans. “Back to the castle, then?”

The trek through the Forbidden Forest to Hogwarts took the better part of an hour. A few of the Slytherins stayed behind to corral the rest of the students who had attended the party, but Bella insisted on accompanying them back to the castle. She walked uncomfortably close to Sirius, rubbing shoulders with him and giggling every time he tried to shove her away. As a result, by the time they reached McGonagall’s office, Sirius looked ready to commit murder, which James was certain would not help their case.

Professor McGonagall seemed to have been expecting them. Although it was past midnight, she was fully clothed in tartan robes and pointed witches’ hat as she sat behind her desk, her hands folded and her back ramrod straight. James wondered if Mulciber had tipped her off, or if she somehow knew it was his birthday and had been expecting trouble. 

“Sit,” she said, gesturing to the chairs in front of her desk. “Mulciber, Avery, Snape, Miss Black, you may go.”

“Lily too,” James burst out as he took a seat. Beside him, Sirius groaned.

“Miss Evans stays,” said Professor McGonagall. “At least until I determine the extent to which she was involved in tonight’s activities.”

“But she didn’t do anything!” said James. “She just came to the party!”

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow. “Miss Evans, is this true?”

Although the Sunrise Surprise had long since worn off, Lily’s face was as scarlet as her hair. James wondered if she’d ever been in trouble with McGonagall before. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, her eyes on her feet. “I was there.” 

“Then I am very disappointed in you,” said Professor McGonagall. “You were out after hours, and off school grounds, no less. That shows a serious lack of judgement.”

“It does, ma’am,” said Lily, her voice quavering. “I made a mistake. I’m sorry.”

“I accept your apology,” said Professor McGonagall stiffly. “You are both a prefect and a young witch with a bright future. Learn from this experience and do not repeat it.”

Lily swiped at her eyes with her sleeve. “I won’t, Professor.”

“I am relieved to hear that,” McGonagall said. “I will deduct ten points from Gryffindor, and you shall serve a detention. Does this sound fair?”

Lily’s eyes were filled with tears, but James thought she’d gotten off rather easily, all things considered. He’d lost more points than that for far smaller offences. And only one detention! It must be her first. 

“You may leave,” Professor McGonagall told Lily, her eyes softening. “Get a good night’s sleep, and remember that tomorrow is a new day.” 

Nodding, Lily picked up her bag, sniffing a little. As she pulled open the office door, however, she paused and glanced back just enough to make eye contact with James. Her tears were gone, and her green eyes sparkled with obvious delight as she smirked at him. 

James’ mouth fell open. Lily winked, her smile growing wider. Then she flounced out of the office.

Professor McGonagall waited until the door had swung shut before focusing her attention on James and his friends, her expression much more severe than when she had been addressing Lily.

“Minnie —” started Sirius, and James kicked him. 

“Thank you, Potter,” said Professor McGonagall. “I agree that was a disrespectful form of address. Now, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Er… I threw a party because it’s my birthday,” replied James, trying to think of a way to frame the situation that wouldn’t result in him landing a hundred years’ worth of detentions. 

“The party is not the problem,” said Professor McGonagall. “The problem is that you chose to celebrate in the Forbidden Forest.” 

“Technically,” said James, “we were _above_ the Forbidden Forest. I’m not sure if there are rules about that.”

Professor McGonagall blinked. “Explain.”

“We Transfigured a tree,” said James.

“It was this massive old oak,” added Sirius. “One of the tallest in the Forest.”

“We turned it into a treehouse,” said James. “I honestly wish you could have seen it. It was awesome.”

“It was brilliant,” agreed Peter. “We enlarged the trunk and hollowed it out to make room inside. Plus we turned a pinecone into a disco ball. Stroke of genius, that.”

“We took some safety precautions, too,” said Remus. “There were anti-gravity spells around the whole perimeter of the tree to support the treehouse and the people in it, in case something went wrong. After the events of tonight, you can imagine my relief that we prepared in advance.”

James could have kissed Remus for playing the role of responsible prefect so perfectly. Especially considering they _hadn’t_ put any anti-gravitational spells on the treehouse.

Professor McGonagall’s eyebrows had travelled further and further up her forehead during this discussion.  “Can you show me?” she asked at last. 

Sirius grinned and drew his wand from his pocket, pressing the tip against his temple. He closed his eyes, and when he pulled his wand away, a thin silver thread hung from it. Professor McGonagall made no comment on Sirius’ ability to cast a nonverbal memory charm; she merely slid a small stone bowl, roughly the size of an ashtray, across her desk towards them. Sirius tapped his wand against the bowl, dropping the memory inside. 

Leaning forward, Professor McGonagall prodded the contents with her wand and watched as a silvery tree rose from the bowl. Small, wispy figures on broomsticks darted around the tree, shooting tendrils of smoke towards it. Professor McGonagall flicked her wand and the memory sped up, the figures zooming around as they widened the trunk of the tree and elongated its branches. 

“Impressive,” she said at last, pushing the bowl towards Sirius, who used his wand to pick up the memory inside. “That took a fair bit of magic. Unfortunately, as you made the poor choice of building this treehouse off grounds and hosting a party there past curfew, there must be consequences.”

James winced. “I was afraid of that.”

“Deducting fifty points each seems more than fair. Each of you will also serve a month’s worth of detentions. _Separate_ detentions,” she added, and the look of glee on Sirius’ face vanished. “I think that is enough for tonight. Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew, you may go. Potter, I would ask you to stay for another minute.”

Sirius shot James a pained look before closing the office door, leaving James alone with Professor McGonagall. They regarded each other for a moment.

“You are supremely talented at Transfiguration, Potter,” said Professor McGonagall at last. “It is rare that I have a student who is so innately gifted.”

James would have been less stunned if she had offered him his own set of tartan robes. “Erm,” he said. “Thanks. You’re not bad, yourself.”

A corner of her mouth quirked upwards. “I suppose it is an exercise in futility to tell a sixteen-year-old boy to be more careful.”

James grinned. “If I were more careful, I’d be a worse wizard and a worse Chaser. We don’t want that, do we?”

“Certainly not,” replied Professor McGonagall, returning his smile. “I must admit I am hoping to display the Cup in my office this year. I’ve even got a space picked out for it.” She gestured towards a glass cabinet behind her, which was rather conspicuously empty.

“No worries, Professor. We’re going to flatten Ravenclaw.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she said, adjusting her pointed hat as she stood up. “You may go now, Potter.”

His hand was on the door handle when he heard her clear her throat.

“Another thing,” said  Professor McGonagall, examining her wand. “If one needed a safe place to go during an electrical storm, there is a passageway on the second floor behind the statue of Cornelia the Unbalanced that leads to a small grotto under the castle.”

James stared at her. She made a shooing motion with her hand before sweeping into the room at the back of her office, effectively ending their conversation. 

That was probably for the best, seeing as he didn’t have the heart to tell her they’d discovered that passageway in their second year.

 


	7. The Beast Within

The first days of April were cold and wet, with students tracking mud on the marble staircase and heavy grey clouds hanging above the tables of the Great Hall. The gloomy weather suited Severus just fine, as it meant that the Intents’ next bonding activity would be held inside. This was far preferable to what had happened the previous week, when Bella had led them all down to the Black Lake to partake in something she called ‘tubbing’, which involved forcing each other underwater until they gasped for air, gulping murky lake water into their lungs. Severus in particular had hated this activity, as he had never learnt to swim growing up, and it had taken every ounce of self-control he had not to panic when Evan Rosier continued to hold his head down even after he had swallowed three huge lungfuls of water.

Afterwards, Severus had been the one to suggest that they crash James Potter’s birthday party as a sort of palate cleanser. Bella had found the idea delightful, and as far as Severus was concerned, the look on James Potter’s face when he realized he was outnumbered was worth a thousand near-drownings at Rosier’s hands.

Smiling to himself as he remembered the way James’ treehouse had imploded, taking all of his birthday gifts with it, Severus pushed open the gilded door to Dungeon Thirteen. Immediately, a foul smell hit his nostrils, and he gagged, covering his mouth.

Dungeon Thirteen’s normally immaculate furnishings were covered with what looked to be the remains of animals. Carcasses of creatures twisted in unnatural positions were draped across the high-backed armchairs, and the white carpet was stained with what Severus suspected was a mixture of blood, pelts, and dung. The overall effect was grotesque, and the smell was nearly unbearable.

“Severus!” exclaimed Bella, bounding towards him and clapping him on the shoulder. She was positively beaming, seemingly unaffected by the smell. “Today’s ritual will be a little more up your alley than last week’s, I think.”

Severus cast a sceptical eye over the carcasses that littered the room, his eyes watering from the stench. “I’d be interested to learn what part of my personality suggests I’d be delighted to find myself surrounded by dead animals.”

Bella laughed, beckoning the other Intents closer. Most of them, like Severus, were having a hard time hiding their disgust. “Don’t worry about the smell, my loves! Today, we are going to learn something supremely interesting. We are going to make Inferi!”

Severus’ eyes widened. Beside him, Rabastan Lestrange looked horrified, while the other Intents just seemed confused.

Bella let out a loud sigh. “Who here knows what Inferi are?” 

“They’re zombies,” blurted Lestrange. “Reanimated corpses that —”

Severus noticed Bella’s frown and decided it would be best if he stepped in. “Not zombies, Rabastan,” he said quickly. “Zombies contain a fragment of the soul of the wizard who animates them. Inferi are more like puppets, enchanted to do their master’s bidding. They lack a will of their own.”

“Beautiful definition,” said Bella, smiling. “Today, you are going to learn how to enchant a corpse to create an Inferius. We will be using animals, of course, seeing as human specimens are in short supply, but rest assured that the process is the same for both.”

She divided them into pairs, placing Severus with Lestrange, whose face had turned a distinct shade of green.

“My great-uncle was eaten by a zombie,” he explained to Severus, wincing as Bella handed them each an animal to work on. “It doesn’t sit right with me, messing with the dead. I think we ought to just leave them be.”

“These are just ferrets, though,” said Severus, prodding his ferret with his wand. “Even reanimated, they’re hardly dangerous.” 

“Only if you lack imagination,” said Bella, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of them. “You will be imbuing these animals with your will. They will do exactly what you want, so don’t be afraid to _think big_.”

Lestrange shuddered.

Animating the Inferi ended up being more difficult than Severus had anticipated. The process required maintaining several different spells at once, and as the finishing step, they had to use their own blood to mark the carcasses with Ancient Runes.

“Make sure your Runes correspond with what you want your Inferi to be able to do,” instructed Bella, watching their progress. “The more specific you can be, the better.”

After about an hour, the room was filled with animals shambling about with varying degrees of realism. Lestrange’s ferret lay curled up at his feet, the Rune for ’sleep’ written in blood on its pale fur.

“I hate this,” said Lestrange, not bothering to hide his revulsion as he stared down at his ferret.

Severus shrugged, watching his ferret, which was tripping over its own paws in an effort to chase its tail. “I was expecting worse.”

“Show of hands, who knows how to get rid of an Inferi?” asked Bella, raising her own hand into the air.

Lestranges’ hand shot up. “Fire.”

“Exactly!” said Bella. “Any sort of light or heat will repel an Inferius, but fire works best. Rodolphus, you answered the question correctly, would you like to demonstrate?”

Lestrange looked like he would rather eat his own socks, but he nodded. He drew a deep breath through his nose before pointing his wand at his ferret, which vanished immediately in a column of flame. He lowered his wand only after the fire had burned itself out, his shoulders sagging a little.

After they had burned what was left of the Inferi, Bella made them clean the entire dungeon using rags and toothbrushes. It was nearly midnight by the time they finished, and Severus’ knees hurt from scrubbing dung out of the rug. 

“That’s enough for tonight,” Bella said at last, surveying the room. Even after a good cleaning, stains still lingered on the chairs, and the carpet looked decidedly grimy.  “I’ll have the house-elves do the rest. Rodolphus, let’s go to the kitchens for a Butterbeer — you pushed yourself tonight, and that makes me proud.” 

Severus followed Mulciber and Avery out of Dungeon Thirteen, and as he shut the door he saw Bella slip her arm around Lestranges’ shoulders in much the same way she had with Severus after they had learned the Unforgivable Curses.

Mulciber elbowed Severus in the side. “Guess what?”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “You need help in Charms again?”

“Very funny,” deadpanned Mulciber. “But no. Look what I nicked.”

He pulled his cloak aside to reveal a dead kitten tucked into a pocket of his robes. It looked almost peaceful; with its eyes closed, it could be sleeping.

“A while back, we used your de-boning spell on a cat,” explained Mulciber, his icy blue eyes narrowing to slits as he smiled. “A muddy cat belonging to a muddy girl. I thought she might like us to give her a new one, now that we know how.”

“You’re sick!” cried Avery, but he looked elated.

Severus felt his heart sink. That cat had belonged to Mary MacDonald, one of Lily’s friends in Gryffindor. If it somehow got out that the Intents knew how to create Inferi, if Lily linked it back to him…

“What do you say?” asked Mulciber, leering at Severus. “You in?”

Severus pressed his lips together as he remembered telling Lily that he was trying to stay neutral. Giving Mulciber the green light to terrorize Lily’s friends was hardly neutral behaviour. She might not forgive him so quickly for that.

Then again, she _had_ sided with James Potter and his mates at their party, hadn’t she? She hadn’t so much as looked at him during the ambush in the Forbidden Forest. Not to mention she was protecting a potential werewolf, of all things. She couldn’t lecture _him_ about consorting with Dark creatures.

Severus nodded slowly, his eyes on the kitten. “I’m in.”

 

* * *

 

After dinner on Tuesday, Lily was walking back to Gryffindor tower with Parvana and Marlene, who was bemoaning the fact that Lily wouldn’t give her the Detachable Cribbing Cuffs she’d confiscated from Eustace Fawley during Herbology.

“I’m just saying, you haven’t turned them in to McGonagall yet, nobody’d be the wiser —”

“I can’t risk it, Marly,” said Lily, skipping a trick step on the stairs. “McGonagall’s already got her eye on me thanks to the fiasco that was Potter’s party. I need to fly under the radar for a while.”

“Radar: a system for detecting the presence of aircraft,” recited Marlene. “Developed by the Muggle military during the Global Wizarding War. Certain to come up on our O.W.L.”

Parvana giggled. “If anyone needs the Cuffs, it’s me. You’ve never gotten less than an Acceptable in your life.”

“I’m not trying to _cheat_ ,” said Marlene as they reached the sixth floor landing. “I just want to pass notes with Mary. Which would be possible if a certain red-haired someone would conveniently let those Cuffs fall out of her pocket…”

“Maybe I’ll start wearing them as a fashion accessory,” said Lily, grinning at Marlene’s mock outrage. “Show off my power as a prefect. Make everyone jealous —”

A sudden shriek echoed up the staircase. Lily stopped in her tracks, causing Marlene to collide with her back. 

“Did you hear that?” asked Lily.

“Yeah,” said Marlene. “That sounded like —”

A second scream reached their ears. Immediately, Lily began to sprint down the staircase towards the sound, Marlene and Parvana close behind; for better or worse, five years as Gryffindors had trained them to run towards danger rather than away from it. 

Upon reaching the sixth floor landing, they raced down the corridor and rounded the corner to see the door to the Arithmancy classroom hanging ajar. Lily yanked the door open at once, drawing her wand as she burst into the room.

Inside, Mulciber was looming over a terrified Mary MacDonald, something clutched in his hands that Lily couldn’t see. Mary was sobbing and shaking her head as she tried to ward off whatever Mulciber was holding. 

“Mary!” cried Marlene. She made to run to Mary’s side, but Mulciber already had his wand out. There was a bang and Marlene’s arms snapped to her sides before she fell to the ground, stiff as a board. 

“LEAVE THEM ALONE!” yelled Lily, pointing her wand at Mulciber. “What is WRONG with you?” Behind her, Parvana murmured a Disarming Charm, and Mulciber’s wand flew out of his grasp. Mulciber merely chuckled at that before turning towards Lily, and her breath caught as she saw what was in his hands. 

It was a kitten with the same tabby colouring as Fletcher, but something was horribly wrong with it. Its fur was matted with blood, and its eyes were a milky white. It stretched its paws towards her, claws extended, as it struggled to free itself from Mulciber’s grasp.

“I heard Mary was missing a cat,” said Mulciber, stroking the kitten with one of his meaty hands. “I thought she might like to have a replacement.” 

“That’s not a cat!” wailed Mary. “It’s — it attacked me — Lily, it’s _dead_!”

Lily stared at the kitten, a wave of nausea washing over her at the way its tongue lolled out of its mouth.

Mulciber grinned at her horrified expression. “Isn’t it precious? And it _loves_ Mary, muddy blood and all.” 

He tossed the kitten carelessly into the air; it landed on the floor with a sickening splat. For a moment, it didn’t move, and Lily hoped it was well and truly dead; but then its limbs begin to twitch and it staggered to its feet before making a tottering beeline towards Mary. Mary shrieked and clambered onto a desk, drawing her legs towards her chest, but the kitten leapt farther than it should have been able to and sank its claws into her calf.

Mary screamed, shaking her leg frantically in an attempt to dislodge the kitten, but it held fast. Lily took a deep breath and ran towards the kitten, trying to grab it, but it sank its teeth into her hand and she pulled back, swearing. Rivulets of blood began to run down Mary’s leg.

“Call it off!” demanded Lily, whirling towards Mulciber. “It’s hurting her!”

“Oh, is it?” asked Mulciber, putting his hands behind his head. “I hadn’t noticed.” He made for the door, whistling, but Parvana blocked his way, pointing Mulciber’s own wand at him.

“Try me,” said Parvana in a low voice.

Mulciber raised an eyebrow. “Challenge accepted.”

Before Lily could react, he grabbed Parvana by the wrist and twisted; there was a sickening crack and Parvana cried out in pain. Moving quickly now, Mulciber plucked the wand from her hand and pushed her roughly to the ground, trying to slip out the door.

Rage flared in Lily’s chest, and she pointed her wand at his back. “ _IMPEDIMENTA_!”

But it was too late; the jinx ricocheted uselessly off the doorframe as Mulciber ducked around the corner. 

Mary shrieked again. “Lily, HELP ME!”

Lily whirled around and pointed her wand at the kitten, which was crawling up Mary’s leg, its claws tearing into her skin. “ _Petrificus totalus_!” The spell hit the kitten on its hindquarters, sinking into its matted fur, but the kitten continued its climb, seemingly unaffected. 

“What the — why didn’t that work?” cried Lily, but Mary was sobbing too hard to respond. “ _Diffindo_!” The spell slashed three large gashes across the kitten’s back but didn’t so much as slow it down; it had reached Mary’s stomach and was clawing its way up her blouse, teeth bared. 

“Please,” whimpered Mary, trying to push the kitten away. “Stop it — please...” 

“I don’t know how!” exclaimed Lily, reaching for the kitten and attempting to pry it off Mary’s shirt. “It won't — nothing works —”

There was a whooshing sound and a jet of silver light hit Marlene where she was lying, ramrod straight, on the ground. Lily turned to see Parvana slumped against the wall, one hand cradled in her lap and the other pointing her wand at Marlene.

Marlene bolted upright as soon as the countercurse hit her. “I am going to _murder_ Mulciber,” she growled. “Thanks for that, Parvana. You alright?” 

“Fine,” panted Parvana, her breathing shallow. “Help Mary. Please.” 

“Right,” said Marlene, turning around. “Lily, this disgusting _thing_ is undead.” 

“I can see that,” growled Lily, sending another ineffective Cutting Hex at the kitten, which had nearly reached Mary’s neck.

“Fire,” said Parvana slowly, her eyes widening. “We need to use fire.” 

“Exactly,” said Marlene, her expression grim. “Mary, cover your face, I don’t want you getting burned. Lily, Parvana, _Incendios_ on three?” Slightly perplexed, Lily nodded, holding her wand out. “One… two… _three_!”

Three Fire-Making Spells streaked into the kitten like missiles, lighting it ablaze; it tumbled to the floor, writhing, something akin to a scream coming out of its mouth. The column of fire flared brightly, and as Lily watched, astonished, the flames burnt out as if nothing had ever happened. There wasn’t even a trace of ashes where the kitten had been.

Marlene held Mary as she sobbed. “Shh, it’s alright,” she cooed, stroking Mary’s hair. “It’s gone now. It can’t hurt you anymore.”

Lily knelt beside Mary to examine her legs, which were covered in scratches that continued to bleed. “We have to get you to Madam Pomfrey.”

Mary shook her head, hiccuping. “I can’t walk to the hospital wing like this, if someone sees… I don’t want the whole school to know…”

“You stay here then, and I’ll go get her,” said Lily determinedly.

“I’ll come with,” said Parvana, standing up shakily. “Better we go in twos. Plus…” She gestured to her wrist, which she was holding at an odd angle.

“Are you going to tell Pomfrey what happened?” asked Lily as they stepped into the corridor.

“That I had Mulciber wandless and he still managed to get the better of me?” said Parvana, giving Lily a wan smile. “No thanks. I’d rather her think it was a Quidditch accident.”

Lily frowned. “We can’t let him get away with this.”

“Yeah, but what can Madam Pomfrey do?” asked Parvana. “Besides, it’s just a broken wrist. I mean, it definitely hurts, but it takes about a minute to fix.”

Lily raised her eyebrows. “You know, in the Muggle world, breaking a bone is kind of a big deal.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. You have to wear a plaster cast — sort of like a brace — for months, and you can’t get it wet. It’s annoying, and itchy, and takes a long time to heal.”

“Makes me glad I’m a witch,” said Parvana, wincing as she examined her wrist. “I’ll just have to get him back the next time we play Slytherin."

Madam Pomfrey noticed Parvana’s injury immediately upon their arrival to the hospital wing, and indeed was able to mend it in about two minutes. As Madam Pomfrey gently flexed Parvana’s newly-healed wrist, Parvana caught Lily’s astonished expression and smiled a little. “Quicker than a plaster cast?”

“You have no idea,” said Lily. “Also, Madam Pomfrey, we were hoping… there’s someone else, upstairs, who you should see…”

Madam Pomfrey took one look at the seriousness of their expressions and followed them back to the Arithmancy classroom, where Marlene was still holding Mary. Since they had left, Mary had stopped crying, and was now staring blankly into the distance, a dazed expression on her face.

Madam Pomfrey clucked her tongue as she examined the long cuts on Mary’s leg, which continued to bleed. “These were caused by Dark magic, were they not?”

“Yeah,” said Marlene hoarsely. 

Madam Pomfrey shook her head, pulling a jar full of a foul-smelling poultice out of her robes and using it to staunch the bleeding. “What happened?”

“Dunno,” said Mary dully.

Madam Pomfrey’s head snapped up and she fixed Mary with a glare. “Young lady. You have nothing to gain by protecting whoever did this to you.” She turned her steely gaze on Parvana, who swallowed nervously. “And I’m supposed to believe you broke your wrist in a _Quidditch accident_?” 

“It wasn’t a person,” muttered Mary. “It was a creature. And we — well, they — dealt with it.”

Marlene looked at Mary in alarm, but Mary kept her eyes fixed on the poultice Madam Pomfrey was slathering on her legs. 

“A creature,” repeated Madam Pomfrey, shaking her head. “Well then. I can’t force you to tell me the details. But I think it would do some good if you were to speak with a _qualified adult_ about this situation.”

With that, she pulled out her wand and began to murmur an incantation that sounded more like a song. Lily watched in amazement as the gashes on Mary’s legs knit back together, leaving only thin, pale scars in their place. 

“What sort of spell was that?” asked Lily once Madam Pomfrey had finished. “It didn’t sound like anything I’ve ever heard before.”

“It manipulates the layers of the skin,” replied Madam Pomfrey, stowing her wand in her robes. “Heals superficial cuts easily enough, though it takes some finesse to get a clean appearance. Dark magic has a tendency to scar, but these should fade in a week or so.” She turned towards Mary once again, her expression stern. “Anything else you want to tell me about what happened this evening?” 

“No, ma’am,” said Mary softly. “Thank you, though.”

Madam Pomfrey clucked her tongue and muttered something that sounded like 'children' before bustling out of the classroom.

After she had left, Lily, Marlene, and Parvana helped Mary back to the Gryffindor dormitory, tucking her into bed. Lily handed Mary a vial of Dreamless Sleep that Madam Pomfrey had instructed she take to prevent the formation of anxieties related to the attack. Mary downed the vial without complaint before closing her eyes, her chest rising and falling as her breathing slowed.

“One thing is still bothering me,” said Lily finally, once she was sure Mary was asleep. “How did you know to use fire?”

Marlene shrugged. “Everybody knows that, don’t they? There’re all those children’s stories about zombies, Inferi, and the like, and the hero always uses some kind of fire spell to get rid of them.” 

“In Muggle stories, you have to kill a zombie by taking out its brains,” Lily said. “That’s what I was trying to do. I thought… if I could get to its brains…”

Marlene shook her head. “Nah. It doesn’t work like that.”

Parvana smiled a little. “First broken bones, now zombies. Muggles have some odd ideas, don’t they?”

“That’s one way of putting it,” said Lily darkly. This was the third time in recent weeks that she’d been caught out for lacking what was apparently common knowledge in the Wizarding World. She wondered if this pattern would continue throughout her life. Maybe when she was a crotchety old witch her neighbours would laugh at her for being so ignorant. 

Marlene was still watching Mary, who was sleeping soundly. “I worry about her,” Marlene murmured into Lily’s ear. “And about you, too.”

Lily looked at her in surprise. “I’m not the one Mulciber sicced a zombie kitten on.”

“No, but you’re a Muggleborn like she is,” said Marlene. “It feels like the war is getting closer, and it makes me nervous.” 

Lily knew what Marlene meant. During her previous years at Hogwarts, it hadn’t been so important that her parents were Muggles, but now it seemed like she was constantly being reminded that she was an outsider. “Just because Mulciber has a case of pureblood fever doesn’t mean we’re at war,”

“Not yet, at least,” said Marlene.

Lily sighed and rested her head on Marlene’s shoulder. “Not yet.”

 

* * *

 

Severus spent the next week doing his best to track the movements of Remus Lupin and his friends, especially after dinner, when he figured they were most likely to sneak out. The full moon was only days away, and he was hoping they’d let something slip when they didn’t realize he was listening.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t overheard anything enlightening so far. All four Gryffindor boys were still being punished for being stupid enough to throw a party in the Forbidden Forest, so after dinner they usually split up to serve their separate detentions. James would head to the kitchens, where Severus assumed he was tasked with helping the house-elves tidy up. Peter went to the dungeons to sort through Slughorn’s potions cabinet, and Sirius and Remus would vanish up Hogwarts’ many flights of stairs, presumably doing something tedious for McGonagall or Flitwick.

Severus got his chance the night of the full moon. Remus Lupin wasn’t at dinner, and Sirius lingered at the Gryffindor table long after James and Peter had headed to their detentions. Finally, Sirius slipped out of the Great Hall alone. After waiting a minute, Severus followed him into the Entrance Hall, where he was just in time to see Sirius’ long legs bounding up the marble staircase and out of sight.

Severus slung his bag over his shoulder and followed as quickly as he could, trying not to draw attention to himself. He reached the first floor landing just in time to see Sirius vanish around a corner. Severus felt his heart pounding in his chest. Sirius was going to the _hospital wing_. This was new.

The corridor to the hospital wing was empty by the time Severus reached it. He crept forward and pressed his ear to the infirmary door, but no noise came from inside. Taking a breath, Severus pushed the door open as quietly as possible, but no sooner had he stepped inside then he felt a pair of hands grab him by the collar and shove him roughly onto a nearby cot.

“I knew it,” said Sirius triumphantly, drawing the curtains around the cot. “You _are_ following us. I told James, but he didn’t believe me.”

Severus made to pull out his wand, but Sirius was ready for it. He grabbed a handful of Severus’ hair and shoved him onto the cot, snatching the wand from his hands.

“Stop — give that back,” said Severus, scrambling into a sitting position. 

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, twirling the wand between his fingers. “Or else you’ll what? Punch me? I’d like to see you try.”

“You think you’re hot stuff, don’t you?” sneered Severus. “Firstborn of the House of Black, think you can shove around whoever you want —“

“Not whoever I want, Snivellus,” said Sirius, feigning a yawn. “Just you, really.”

“Why did you lure me here?”

“Lure?” repeated Sirius incredulously. “I didn’t _lure_ you anywhere. I was minding my own business and you followed me like the little sneak you are. Just like you followed us to the Shrieking Shack. And to our party.”

Suddenly, Sirius lunged forward and grabbed Severus’ arms, forcing him back onto the cot and pinning him down. Severus thrashed around, trying to twist free, but it was no use. Weeks of running drills with the other Intents may have given his scrawny frame some muscle, but he was no match for Sirius, who was tall and strongly built.

“I heard something interesting from Remus at that party,” said Sirius, his breath hot against Severus’ ear. “Lily told him you’ve been coming up with _theories_ about his illness.”

“Not theories,” snarled Severus, trying to push Sirius off of him. “Facts.”

Sirius grinned, clearly enjoying watching Severus struggle. “Theories and gossip and speculation, Snivellus. Unless you’ve seen him transform with your own two eyes?”

“So you admit he transforms?”

Sirius let go of him then, but before Severus could sit up, Sirius grabbed him by the front of his robes and hauled him against the wall, his wand pressed into Severus’ throat.

“I admit _nothing_ ,” growled Sirius. “But if you’re so intent on finding out, why don’t you follow the tunnel under the Whomping Willow and see where it leads?”

“Tell me how to get past the branches,” wheezed Severus. Sirius’ wand was cutting into his windpipe. 

“Easy,” said Sirius. “Touch the knot at the base of the Whomping Willow. Password to the tunnel’s ‘open sesame.’”

He released Severus, who staggered against the wall, willing himself to maintain his balance.

“And when I kill the monster you call a friend?” rasped Severus, massaging his throat. 

Sirius barked a laugh. “You’re a joke, you know that, Snivellus? You couldn’t so much as singe a single hair on his head. Or hide, as the case may be.” He winked, then checked his watch, which was a tacky Muggle thing. “Pomfrey’s already left with Remus, so I’d say you’ve got, what, half an hour till moon rise? Make sure to cast that Disillusionment charm you do so well, so she doesn’t see you on her way back to the castle.”

He held Severus’ wand out. Severus took it, eyeing Sirius sceptically. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“It’s quite straightforward, really,” said Sirius airily. “If you want to know what’s wrong with Remus so badly, you deserve to find out.” He pulled back the curtains to expose the empty hospital wing before turning back towards Severus, a mad light dancing in his eyes. “When you see him, give Remus my regards.”

 

* * *

  

James collapsed into a squashy armchair in the Gryffindor common room, rubbing his hands, which were dry and cracked from washing dishes with the house-elves in the kitchens. He actually found his detentions quite pleasant, so far — he enjoyed the mindless rhythm of scrubbing the pots and pans until they were sparkling clean, and the house-elves always gave him treats at the end of the night.

Peter passed him a jar of snail essence. “Sirius still in detention?”

“Guess so,” said James, twisting the lid off the jar and scooping out a handful of the greyish slime. “Fancy a game of Exploding Snap?”

They had played three rounds of Exploding Snap and were halfway through building an elaborate card castle when Sirius crawled through the portrait hole, grinning.

“Exploding Snap?” asked Sirius, joining James and Peter at the table. “I’ve got a better game for you. It’s called… wait for it… Exploding _Snape_.”

Peter groaned, but James laughed, stacking another card atop the castle. “I’m in. How do we play? Slipping as many firecrackers as possible into Snape’s dirty old bag?” 

“Better,” said Sirius, grinning. “We watch as Snivellus sneaks down to the Whomping Willow and laugh at the look on his face when he realizes he’s about to be mauled by a werewolf and it’s his own nosey fault.”

It was Peter’s turn to laugh this time, but James frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean he was snooping around like usual, wanting to know what’s wrong with Remus, so I told him to go find out,” said Sirius, shrugging.

Peter sniggered. “I’d like to see him try to get past the Whomping Willow.”

“Oh, I told him how,” said Sirius, waving his hand. “Not that it wouldn’t be amusing watching him try to avoid its branches, but I figured it was best to cut to the chase.” 

“Sirius,” said James slowly, “please tell me you’re joking.”

“Of course I’m not joking,” said Sirius. “The nosey git wants to go toe-to-toe with a bloody _werewolf_. Who am I to withhold information in the presence of such stupidity?”

“Sirius, that’s not a werewolf, it’s _Remus_ ,” said James, jumping to his feet. The movement knocked over the card castle, which exploded with a loud bang, dusting their robes with ash.

“Is it really Remus, though?” asked Peter thoughtfully. “I’ve always been unclear if Remus and the wolf are one and the same, like with Animagi, or if he disappears entirely when he transforms, leaving behind only the wolf… Not many texts on the philosophy of lycanthropy in the library, you know…”

“Regardless, Pete, they’re not gonna put the wolf on trial when Snape gets killed,” snapped James, striding towards the portrait hole. Sirius made to follow him, but James whirled around, pointing his wand at Sirius’ throat.

“You’re not coming,” said James in a low voice. “You’re going to Dumbledore and telling him exactly what you did, and then you lot are going to pray that I get to Snape before Remus does.”

He barely registered the look of shock on Sirius’ face before he was off, scrambling out the portrait hole and down Hogwarts’ many flights of stairs as quickly as he could. He sprinted through the Entrance Hall onto the grounds, ignoring the wind that whipped around him, chilling him down to the bone. 

When he reached the Whomping Willow, he darted towards the base of the tree, not bothering to freeze its branches. He flung himself onto his stomach as one particularly large bough came crashing towards him, and rolled out of the way as many smaller branches lashed at him like whips. One struck him across the shoulder and he swore, hurrying forward to the tunnel which lay at the base of the tree.

He flung himself into the tunnel headfirst, nearly knocking his chin against a stone that jutted up from the ground.

“SNAPE!” bellowed James, but there was no response. He ran through the tunnel as quickly as he could, bent nearly in two and scrambling with his arms to find purchase against the uneven ground.

Finally, he saw a faint light at the other end of the tunnel, coming from the trapdoor that led to the Shrieking Shack. James drew his wand, and his stomach turned as he realized that Severus wasn’t there. Breaking into a near sprint, he jumped upwards and reached for the handle on the trapdoor, ready to pull it down and face the wolf on the other side —

He collided with something solid and invisible mid-air and tumbled to the ground. It felt like he was lying atop a tangle of limbs, a body… he could see a dim outline that moved as the body fought to throw him off…   

“Snape?!” exclaimed James, scrambling to his feet.

“Come to see the show?” sneered Severus, who had Disillusioned himself so well that James could barely tell he was there.

“Snape, we have to go,” panted James. “It’s not safe —” 

“You don’t say,” said Severus, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thanks for the offer, but you’re stupider than you look if you seriously think I’m not going to find out what’s up there.”

Severus reached a shimmery hand up, grasping the handle of the trapdoor. James tackled him, sending them falling in a jumble to the ground, but not before the trapdoor swung open above them. 

Light flooded the tunnel and James looked up, squinting. He could see the drawing room of the Shrieking Shack above him, all its furniture where it should be.

Then he heard a growl, long and low, and a dark shape blocked the entrance to the Shrieking Shack.

Instinctively, James threw his arms out, shielding Severus, even as a part of his brain told him it was crazy to do so, since Severus was Disillusioned. He, James, was the only human the wolf would see —

“ _Lumos_!” shouted Severus, and light illuminated the tunnel, reflecting off the wolf’s eyes, which were brown and round and grotesquely human. The wolf bared its fangs. 

It lunged at the same time James raised his wand. “ _STUPEFY_!”

The spell ricocheted off the wolf’s pelt, knocking it backwards slightly. Its hindquarters were still in the Shack, but its front hung out of the trapdoor. It snapped its jaws as its massive claws slashed through the air, tearing at James’ robes.

“ _STUPEFY_!” cried James again, but the spell merely glanced off the wolf’s muzzle. It shook its head, annoyed, and readied itself to lunge again. Frantically, James pointed his wand at the trapdoor, praying that his next spell would work. “ _COLLOPORTUS_!”

The trapdoor swung upward right as the wolf lunged. The wolf snarled as the door forced it backwards, its paws scrabbling for purchase. At last, the door slammed shut, trapping the wolf inside the Shrieking Shack.

James kept his wand pointed at the trapdoor, breathing heavily. From behind it came an anguished, eerily human moan and then a bang. The wolf had apparently flung itself against the trapdoor, which shuddered under its weight.

“ARE YOU HAPPY NOW, SNAPE?” bellowed James, pushing him down the tunnel, towards the Whomping Willow. “RUN!”

Severus didn’t need telling twice. He fled, his Disillusioned outline disappearing into the darkness of the tunnel. James followed close behind, a sickening feeling growing in his stomach as he heard more bangs and the splintering of wood coming from behind him. _Please let the door hold, please let it hold…_

The branches of the Whomping Willow were still as James hauled himself out of the tunnel. In front of him, Severus was panting, hands on his knees. Severus tapped his wand to his head, undoing his Disillusionment charm, and looked at James, fury burning in his black eyes.

“I didn’t ask you to —"

“You’re lucky I did,” spat James. He was shaking, but he wasn’t sure if it was from adrenaline or the cold or something else. “You were inches away from a werewolf, and your spell of choice is _Lumos_? You stupid, nosey, half-brained —”

“I think that’s quite enough, Mr Potter,” said a calm voice. James turned to see a tall, white-bearded figure striding towards them, followed by Sirius.

“Would you two be so kind as to accompany me to my office?” said Albus Dumbledore. It wasn’t a question.

 


	8. Punishments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: There's a bit of canon dialogue in this chapter! Of course, all such dialogue belongs to JK Rowling, not me.

"…And there's no password to the tunnel, either, I stood there for nearly five minutes saying 'open sesame' like an imbecile before I realized, so thanks for that —"

"Well, Snivellus, I can hardly be blamed if you're too stupid to look with your eyes and see the tunnel laying right there —"

"You tried to kill me!"

"YOU WANTED TO BE KILLED!" bellowed Sirius. He and Severus were standing at opposite ends of Dumbledore's office, shouting at each other. Dumbledore, for his part, was sitting behind his desk with his hands clasped, his eyes flicking back and forth to either side of the room as if following a lively sports match.

Sirius jabbed a finger at Severus, his handsome features contorted with disgust. "You noticed something was dodgy with Remus and instead of  _minding your own damn business_  like a normal person, you stick your great greasy nose in it! You start snooping around for clues, figure out he's a werewolf, and then decide you want to  _see for yourself_? None of that is my fault!"

"No," sneered Severus, "your fault lies in telling me how to get past the protections designed to keep students safe from that monster, just because you thought it would be  _funny_  if I got injured, or killed —"

"Well, I wasn't about to cry over it. I can see the epitaph now: 'Here lies Severus Snape, who walked into a werewolf den and was surprised when he got bit. Rest in bloody peace.'"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you," said Severus dryly. "You're acting like a proper Black now, getting a half-breed monster to kill a half-blood for your own amusement. I should tell Bella; I'm sure she'd be proud."

Sirius lunged at Severus then, but Dumbledore waved his wand and Sirius went flying backwards into a chair at the far end of the room. Sirius struggled for a moment, but it was no use; he seemed to be bound to the chair by invisible chains. Eventually, he stopped thrashing at the bonds that held him in place and resorted to glaring at Severus, too angry to speak.

"Mr Potter," said Dumbledore, startling James, who was slouched in a chair across from Dumbledore's desk and trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. "Is what Severus claims true? Did Sirius purposefully tell Severus how to get past the Whomping Willow, with the intention that Remus Lupin harm him?"

"I don't know, sir," said James, crossing his arms. His shoulder throbbed where the Whomping Willow had cut him. "You'll have to ask Sirius what his motivations were. I definitely don't know what he was thinking."

Sirius stared at James, his mouth hanging open. "James," he said. "You know I wasn't trying to — I would never —"

"I don't know anything about you," said James, keeping his eyes on the floor.

"He was following us!" exclaimed Sirius, a pleading note in his voice. "He wanted to get at us, at Remus — wanted to know how to get past the tree — I only thought…"

Dumbledore eyed Sirius gravely. "Remus Lupin spends the full moon in the Shrieking Shack because it is the only place we can be assured contains him during his transformation. He voluntarily isolates himself for his own safety as much as for the safety of the student body. Regardless of Severus Snape's machinations, Remus' secret was not yours to give away."

Sirius' face paled. "I never meant to — I wasn't thinking about Remus…"

"That much is obvious," said Dumbledore softly.

Severus' expression had grown more and more sullen as Dumbledore spoke. Finally, seemingly unable to contain himself any longer, he burst out, "So you admitted Lupin into Hogwarts  _knowing_  what he was, knowing the danger he poses —"

"You're quite right," said Dumbledore calmly, cutting Severus off. "I allowed Remus Lupin a place in Hogwarts. He deserves an education just as much as any other student in this castle, and it is for this reason that  _you must not reveal his secret_."

Severus stared uncomprehendingly at Dumbledore. James thought it looked a bit like he was short-circuiting. "Do you mean to say," said Severus at last, "that you really expect me to — to cover for that… monster?"

"That is exactly what I expect," said Dumbledore, looking quite pleased that Severus had grasped the matter so quickly.

Severus shook his head in disbelief, his stringy hair falling across his face. "And if I refuse?"

"Then you shall be expelled," said Dumbledore seriously.

"No," said Severus immediately. "You're  _joking_."

"I am quite in earnest," said Dumbledore. "And if you feel that you are incapable of discretion on this matter, there are ways to compel your silence. I am not opposed to modifying your memory so that you forget you ever took an interest in Remus Lupin. There are also Unbreakable Vows, though I must confess I find it distasteful to threaten you with silence or death, so I hope you will agree that such drastic measures are unnecessary."

"But — why?" spluttered Severus. "Why go through all this effort to protect a —"

"A human being," said Dumbledore. "A person much the same as you or I, who was merely a child when he was bitten, through no fault of his own, and has since suffered in ways I would not wish upon my worst enemy."

"But he's a  _danger_ , the other students deserve to know — "

"I see I will not convince you on this matter," said Dumbledore sadly. "Luckily for Remus Lupin, I am the headmaster of this school and you are not. As such, he will remain a student at Hogwarts, however much you may disagree with my decision. Now, do I have your word that you will not tell a soul what you saw tonight?"

Severus and Dumbledore stared at each other for a full minute. Sirius took the opportunity to nudge James' chair with his foot, trying to get his attention, but James looked away, pretending like he was supremely interested in picking the dirt off his robes.

At last, Severus nodded sullenly. "Fine."

"I am relieved to hear it," said Dumbledore, smiling and seeming to relax a bit. "On that note, it's getting late. You have my permission to return to your respective dormitories."

James didn't need telling twice and jumped out of his chair. Sirius made to stand up as well, but Dumbledore shook his head slightly. "Mr Black, I'm afraid I must ask you to stay a while longer, so that we may talk privately."

Sirius cast a desperate glance at James, who did his best to shrug indifferently. James stepped out of Dumbledore's office, Severus close behind, and began to descend the spiral staircase as quickly as he could, wanting to put as much distance as possible between himself and Severus.

"Here's hoping he's expelled," came Severus' voice behind him, echoing off the stone walls.

James rolled his eyes. "You just don't know when to quit, do you?"

"It's no less than he deserves, luring me to that monster —"

James whirled around, pulling his wand out and advancing on Severus. To his gratification, he saw a spark of fear in Severus' black eyes. "I'll give you one warning,  _Snivellus_ ," said James in a low voice. "If I catch you so much as looking at Remus sideways, I will Transfigure your vital organs into sandbags and drag your body to the Shrieking Shack at the next full moon. I swear on my wand."

A hint of a sneer curled around Severus' lips. "And they say Slytherin is full of sadists."

"I'll make Whoever-He-Is look like Helga Hufflepuff," said James. "So I suggest you keep your greasy mouth shut." He pocketed his wand before striding away from Severus, who was standing very still in the middle of the corridor. "By the way," called James over his shoulder, "you're welcome for saving your life."

* * *

It was nearly midnight by the time James got back to his dorm. He pulled his robes over his head and collapsed onto his bed, sighing deeply.

Peter rolled over in bed to face James. It was obvious from the worried look on Peter's face that he hadn't been to sleep yet. "What happened?"

"Well, Snivellus is still with us, unfortunately," said James, yanking his socks off with rather more force than he'd intended. "Though not for lack of trying on his part, mind you."

"Did he get past the Willow?"

James nodded. "He saw Moony."

Peter's eyes were the size of dinner plates. "And — did  _you_ …?"

"Yeah," said James. "I saw him too. He was… Merlin, Pete, the wolf had Remus' eyes. It was horrifying. It wasn't him, and yet it  _was_."

"It didn't get you, though?" asked Peter, gesturing towards James' shoulder.

"Oh," said James, touching the long gash in his shoulder and wincing a little. "No, this was from the Willow. I'll get Poppy to look at it in the morning."

Peter nodded, lines creasing his forehead. "And Sirius…?"

"Still talking to Dumbledore," said James, pulling on his pyjamas. "He might be expelled, and good riddance."

Peter gasped. "You don't actually mean that!"

James looked at Peter for a moment before sighing. "No, I suppose I don't. But I —"

Just then, the door to the dormitory swung open and Sirius entered the room. His dark hair hung lank around his face, and his eyes were red.

"So?" asked James, crossing his arms.

"So I'm staying," said Sirius hoarsely. "We just talked. He told me —" Sirius stopped himself and lifted a shoulder. "It doesn't matter. No detention. He didn't even take points."

James raised an eyebrow. "Pity."

Sirius nodded, looking miserable. He made to walk to his bed, but James stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

"You're not sleeping here," he said. "You think Remus is going to want to share a dormitory with you when he finds out what you did?"

Sirius grimaced, but he didn't look particularly surprised. "Let me get my stuff at least."

James made a show of checking his watch. "You have three minutes."

Sirius was gone in two.

The next morning, James was up before Peter. He dressed quickly, ignoring his aching body, and made his way to the hospital wing. He sat on the nearest cot, listening to the clicking of Madam Pomfrey's shoes as she approached him. "Potter," she said, sounding exasperated, "You know Remus isn't supposed to have visitors —"

"I'm here for myself, actually," said James, undoing the top of his robes to expose his injured shoulder. "Well, and I also wanted to see Remus, of course."

"He injured himself worse than usual last night, I'm afraid," said Madam Pomfrey, dropping her voice as she pulled out her wand to examine his shoulder. "He needs  _rest_ , not you boys working him up —"

"I'm a healing presence, Poppy."

"Five points from Gryffindor for cheek," said Madam Pomfrey, and James grinned. She made a tutting sound as she examined his shoulder. "Someone got too close to the Whomping Willow."

"Sirius dared me," said James, gritting his teeth as she pressed her fingers into his skin. Madam Pomfrey merely raised her eyebrows, pointing her wand at the long, thin cut. Immediately, James felt a peculiar itching sensation as his skin knit itself back together.

"Thanks," he said, re-buttoning his robes.

"I noticed you have several bruises as well," said Madam Pomfrey pointedly.

James shrugged. "I can live with those. Can I see Remus now?"

Madam Pomfrey hesitated before nodding, inclining her head towards the familiar curtained cot at the end of the room. "If you upset him, Potter, I'm throwing you out. Consider yourself warned."

"Noted," said James, smiling at her.

Behind the curtains, Remus was lying on his cot and staring at the ceiling, his face pale. His bloodshot eyes flickered towards James as he pulled back the curtain.

"Something happened last night," said Remus, his knuckles white where he was gripping the sheets. "I broke my collarbone trying to — to get at something. I think it was a person. James… tell me, I didn't —"

"Everyone's okay," said James, sitting at the foot of Remus' bed. "Nobody got hurt. But Moony —" he hesitated. "Snape saw you."

Remus' bloodless face somehow paled even further. " _Saw_  me? How — I didn't —"

"He opened the trapdoor at the end of the tunnel. I managed to close it, but he caught a glimpse of you."

Remus gaped at James. "So… does that mean — did you…"

James nodded. "I saw you too."

Remus shut his eyes tightly, his mouth twisting in a grimace. "James," he rasped. "I'm  _so_ —"

" _Don't_ say you're sorry," said James, cutting him off. "It wasn't your fault. Don't you want to know how Snape got past the Whomping Willow?"

Remus opened his eyes at that, frowning slightly. "I know he tried following us last month…"

"It was Sirius," James said, feeling a pang of anger after saying the name aloud. "Sirius told him how to get to the tunnel. How to find you."

Remus' expression was blank. "I don't understand," he said slowly. "Why would he do that? During the full moon… He knows — of course he knows —"

"What seems to have happened," said James, balling his hands into fists, "Is that Sirius figured giving Snape the information he wanted would get him off our back, one way or another. I'm under the impression that he didn't much care about the outcome."

"But I could have killed him," said Remus. "I could have killed  _you_. Surely Sirius didn't mean —"

"Regardless of what he meant," said James, "What he did crossed a line. He betrayed your trust. You get to decide the consequences for that."

Remus sank back onto the cot, pulling a thread-worn blanket around himself. He closed his eyes and was silent for so long that James thought he might have fallen asleep. Finally, he stirred and looked at James. There was a hardness behind his brown eyes that James had never seen before.

"Sirius is going to try to beg forgiveness," said Remus. "And I'm not ready to give it. So I want you to keep him away from me. Can you do that?"

James nodded, putting a hand on Remus' shoulder. "Consider it done."

* * *

Lily arrived early to Potions class that afternoon. Setting her bag on the chair beside her, she opened her textbook obediently to the correct page and began to take notes as other students trickled in. She kept her head down as a swirl of shabby, badly patched robes entered her peripheral vision.

"May I?"

Lily looked up. Severus was standing in front of her table, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He gestured towards her bag on the chair next to her.

"That seat's taken, actually," said Lily coolly, looking back down at her book.

Severus blinked. "No, it's not. We're assigned partners, Lily."

She raised her eyebrows. "And since when has that mattered to you? You've seemed perfectly happy to share a cauldron with Mulciber for the past few weeks."

"I — I told you, he made me —"

"Sure he did," said Lily flatly. "That's your relationship with Mulciber all over, isn't it? He's always forcing you to do things you don't want to do. Always bullying you, isn't he?"

Severus looked at her, his heavy brow furrowed. "What are you trying to insinuate?"

"Why don't you read between the lines and figure it out?"

"How can I figure it out when you're being deliberately obtuse —"

"Saved me a seat, did you, Evans?" asked Sirius Black. He slid into the chair beside Lily, accidentally knocking her bag to the floor. "Oops — my mistake..." Leaning over, he picked up her bag and tossed it carelessly onto the table in front of them.

Severus stared at Sirius, his mouth opening and shutting several times before he found words to speak. "You're — you're working with  _him_?"

"No, I'm not," said Lily, turning to face Sirius. "That seat's for Parvana. Get out."

Sirius made a show of examining his nails. "Parvana's working with James today, actually."

It was Lily's turn to gape at Sirius. "Why?"

"Because I paid her ten Galleons to partner with him," said Sirius, shrugging. "Looks like you're stuck with me."

"Lily doesn't want to sit with you," said Severus immediately.

Lily bristled. " _Don't_  put words in my mouth, Sev."

"But you… but he —"

Sirius glanced up at Severus, his expression one of intense dislike. "You heard her,  _Sev_. No worries, though — looks like Mulciber'd be happy to have you back as a partner." He jerked his head towards the back of the class, where Mulciber was struggling to set up his cauldron.

Severus looked like he desperately wanted to curse Sirius, but he turned towards Lily with a Herculean effort. "After class," he said. "You tell me what's going on."

"Looking forward to it," said Lily coolly. As soon as Severus had stalked off, she rounded on Sirius. "Did you actually pay Parvana ten Galleons to sit with James?"

"Nah," said Sirius, pulling a pair of delicate silver scales out of his bag. "I paid her twenty."

"But why —"

"I was feeling like a change of pace," said Sirius, squinting at instructions on the board. "Now, to business. Would you rather extract the Billywing venom or gut the Flobberworms?"

Lily eyed him suspiciously before glancing towards the back of the classroom. Sure enough, James was sitting with Parvana, who appeared to be giggling at something he had said. James noticed Lily watching and blew her a little kiss.

Lily turned back around, sighing heavily. "I'll gut the Flobberworms."

Working with Sirius turned out to be more pleasant than she had originally anticipated. For all of his lighthearted banter, Sirius was sharp, and at one point he even stopped her from adding shaved Gurdyroot to the cauldron three steps too early. Their Calming Draught may not have turned out the exact shade of periwinkle Lily knew she could achieve with Severus, but she took solace in the fact that Severus and Mulciber's potion looked like something they'd gathered from the bottom of the Black Lake.

Slughorn had barely dismissed them before Sirius had grabbed his bag and hopped out of his seat. He planted a loud, smacking kiss on Lily's cheek before speeding out of the dungeon.

Lily touched her face, grimacing. Mercurial didn't even begin to describe Sirius Black. She noticed Severus staring at her, mouth open, and she rolled her eyes at him.

"I can't believe he  _kissed_ you!" said Severus, following her out of the classroom. "The nerve of that arrogant, presumptuous —"

"Oh, spare me," snapped Lily as they entered the courtyard. The sun was warm on her shoulders, but she felt as if the air had gone several degrees colder. "Don't pretend like you care about me more than he does."

Severus looked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Lily… how can you… In case you've forgotten,  _you_ were the one who didn't want to sit with  _me_!"

"And have you figured out the reason why yet?"

"No, I have no idea! I thought we were supposed to be friends. Best friends?"

"We  _are_ , Sev, but I don't like some of the people you're hanging round with! I'm sorry, but I detest Avery and Mulciber!  _Mulciber_! What d'you see in him, Sev, he's creepy!"

"Well, obviously I wouldn't have sat with him if you had let me be your partner. You know you were my first choice."

"As if you haven't been spending every spare minute with Mulciber anyway," said Lily. "And I don't believe for a second that he's bullying you. I think you  _want_  to be mates with him. D'you know what he tried to do to Mary Macdonald the other day?"

Severus paled. "That — that was nothing. It was a laugh, that's all –"

"I was  _there_ , Sev. It was Dark Magic, and if you think that's funny –"

"What about the stuff Potter and Black get up to?" blurted Severus.

Lily blinked. "What — we're talking about Mulciber! What's Potter got to do with anything?"

"They sneak out at night, you know they do, they had that party… flagrantly breaking the rules... and that's not to mention Lupin! I told you, he's a —" Severus broke off, breathing hard. "You know there's something weird about him. He leaves the grounds —"

"He's ill," said Lily. "We've been through this, they say he's ill – "

"Every month at the full moon? Too ill for the hospital wing?"

They'd stopped walking in the middle of the courtyard, other students streaming around them. Lily crossed her arms and tilted her chin defiantly. "I know your theory, and I think it's bunk."

"It is  _not_  —" Severus stopped himself, nostrils flaring.

"Why are you so obsessed with them anyway? Why do you care what they're doing at night?"

"I'm just trying to show you they're not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are."

"Just because Sirius kissed me doesn't mean I think they're wonderful," said Lily, but she felt heat spreading up her neck.

"You prefer them to Mulciber and Avery, though, don't you?"

"Of course I do! Potter and his mates don't use Dark Magic!" Lily glanced around the courtyard to make sure nobody else was listening before dropping her voice. "And you're being really ungrateful. I heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Willow, and James Potter saved you from whatever's down there —"

Severus pulled away from her, his mouth contorting with disgust. "Saved?  _Saved_? You think he was playing the hero? He was saving his neck and his friends' too! You're not going to — I won't let you —"

"Let me?  _Let me_?"

Severus held up his hands. "Look, I didn't mean… I just don't want to see you made a fool of — He fancies you, James Potter fancies you! And he's not… everyone thinks… big Quidditch hero —"

Lily raised her eyebrows. "I know Potter fancies me. I don't need you to tell me that. And I know he's an arrogant toerag. But Mulciber's and Avery's idea of humour is just evil.  _Evil_ , Sev. I don't understand how you can be friends with them."

Severus seemed to relax a bit upon hearing her condemnation of James. "Mulciber and Avery are alright when you get to know them —"

Lily felt as if she'd just swallowed a rock. "I can't believe you're actually defending them."

"I'm not! I'm just saying —"

"That they're not that bad?" Lily's eyes were blazing with fury. "Mulciber set an  _undead kitten_  on Mary because her cat is missing. What part of that scenario do you find  _not that bad_?"

"Lily, that's not what I —"

"Don't lie," she snapped. "You knew about it. You said it was a  _laugh_." She paused as a thought occurred to her, her green eyes narrowing. "I bet you know what happened to Fletcher, too, don't you?"

Severus looked at Lily imploringly, but she didn't back down. "Well?"

Slowly, he nodded.

"Did Mulciber kill Mary's cat, Sev?"

The look on his face was all the confirmation she needed.

"Was that a laugh, too?"

"Lily," said Severus pleadingly. "Come on. I didn't know what to do. I'm in over my head."

Lily regarded Severus critically, taking in his greasy black hair, his flushed, pale skin, and his knobby limbs. He looked just like the Severus she had grown up with. Even so, she couldn't help but feel that the scrawny boy she'd befriended as a child was gone, and in his place was a stranger.

"You know the most disappointing thing about all this?" she said. "You don't even say you're sorry. You just make excuses."

By the time Severus opened his mouth to respond, she had already walked away.

* * *

After eating their traditional post-full moon dinner in the kitchen, James and Peter accompanied Remus back up to Gryffindor tower. To James' great relief, their dormitory was empty; Sirius had clearly gotten the message that he was not welcome.

"Alright, Moony?" asked James, catching Remus staring at Sirius' empty bed.

"Never better," Remus replied, flashing a thin-lipped smile at James and pulling his robes gingerly over his head.

"Did you tell him to bugger off, then, James?" asked Peter.

James shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "Haven't seen him, honestly. I think he knows he's not wanted."

Remus raised his eyebrows at that before crawling into his bed and drawing the curtains, shielding himself from view. No more noise came from Remus' bed, but as James laid awake that night, he had a suspicion that Remus was also having trouble sleeping.

The next morning, James rose early for Quidditch practice. Slytherin had lost badly to Hufflepuff, which meant that Gryffindor had a chance at winning the Cup, so long as they could outfly Ravenclaw, whose team was speedy and hard-hitting. He'd increased the frequency of Gryffindor's Quidditch practices as a result, figuring the only way to beat Ravenclaw was to become even faster and more aggressive than they were.

As he pulled on his Quidditch uniform, he couldn't help but cast a glance at Sirius' side of the room. The robes which had lain haphazardly across Sirius' trunk were missing, as were the textbooks on his nightstand. Apparently, Sirius had visited in the middle of the night to grab some essentials.

James padded down the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, pausing at the notice board. An announcement about career counselling had appeared there overnight. James scanned the list of appointment times beneath the notice; apparently, he was supposed to meet with Professor McGonagall the Monday after the Easter holidays to discuss career paths.

"Reckon we've got a chance against Ravenclaw?" rasped a voice. James startled a little and turned to see Sirius sitting up from the sofa in front of the fireplace, shrugging off a thick red blanket.

"Sirius," said James wearily. "I'm not about to talk Quidditch with you."

"Why not?" asked Sirius, a note of defiance in his voice. "Remus isn't around, is he?"

"It's more than that," said James. He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stand up in all directions. "I need a bit of space from you, too, mate, alright?"

Sirius' expression darkened. "So you expect me to mope around by myself, then."

"I don't much care what you do, mate," said James. "If you want to mope, that's your choice. Just don't do it around us."

" _Us_ ," spat Sirius. "How quickly the circle closes."

Anger flared in James' chest, and he took a step forward. "You nearly had someone killed," he said in a low voice. "You nearly had  _me_  killed. I think spending some time alone is the  _least_ of all the things you deserve to have happen to you."

Sirius blinked. "Alright,  _mate_. Point taken."

"Great," said James. They looked at each other for a moment.

Sirius broke the silence first. "How long —"

"Merlin's arse, Sirius," said James. "I'm not doing this with you." He shouldered his broom and made for the portrait hole, half-expecting Sirius to argue the point, but the common room behind him was silent.

In Herbology that afternoon, James Vanished the fourth chair at the table where he and his friends usually sat, forcing Sirius to work with a group of twitchy Hufflepuffs who seemed to be unravelling now that O.W.L.s were less than two months away.

"Got something fun planned for today," Professor Sprout said, rubbing at her forehead and leaving a smudge of dirt there. She gestured at the buckets of sticks that sat on the tables. "Who here has heard of xylomancy?"

A few students raised their hands, Peter included. "Xylomancy is the art of predicting the future from the arrangement of twigs," he said.

Professor Sprout pursed her lips and nodded approvingly. "Very good, Pettigrew. Two points to Gryffindor. While most wizards consider xylomancy to be a frivolous pursuit, using scrapings from wand wood trees can improve the accuracy of your readings. I thought it would be a fun Friday activity, as I know your O.W.L.s are looming. If you consult page fifty-three of the textbooks on your tables, you will find instructions on basic xylomancy readings."

James kicked Peter under the table. "Since when do you volunteer in class?"

Peter gave James a smug look. "You lot always take the mickey because I'm in Divination, but the joke's on you now. I'm going to blow your readings out of the water."

"What a waste of a class," moaned Remus, grabbing a handful of sticks out of the bucket. "Guarantee you this won't be on our Herbology O.W.L."

"I'm sure my twigs will say I'm going to be wildly successful," said James, spreading out the sticks on the table in front of him. "This one looks like it's forming a seven — is that the number of O.W.L.s I'm going to get?"

Peter snorted. "Not likely. Divination is more concerned with the detection and forewarning of tragedy. I've yet to hear a single positive prediction in Vablatsky's class."

"Yeah, but this is  _twig magic_ ," said James. "Hard to find anything threatening in a bunch of old twigs."

"Peter might have a point," said Remus, poring over his book. "Looks like there're all sorts of ways for a pair of sticks to spell death and destruction. This arrangement means 'trials ahead' though, that's not too bad —"

"Nah, that's even worse," said Peter, shaking his head. "It's too vague. You want to know  _exactly_ what sort of misfortune is going to befall you, so you can prepare for it."

"Oh, I think I've got it, then," said Remus. "These twigs are saying, 'you're going to graduate from Hogwarts just in time for the entire Wizarding World to be swept up in a massive blood war, good luck with the job market.'"

James laughed, and Peter nodded encouragingly. "See, doesn't it feel better to know what you're facing?"

"I've never felt so comforted," said Remus dryly.

"You don't actually think there's going to be a war?" said a voice at the table next to them. Mary MacDonald was looking at them curiously, one of her xylomancy twigs tucked into her ponytail.

Next to her, Marlene yawned. "Of course there will be. Mulciber set an undead kitten on you because you're a Muggleborn, and we're at idyllic  _Hogwarts_. Imagine how much worse it's going to be in the real world."

"Wait, Mulciber did  _what_?" exclaimed James.

Lily looked up from her twigs at the sound of Mulciber's name. "It's true. We barely got to Mary in time."

"He also killed Fletcher, so we're not real chuffed with him at the moment," said Marlene.

"Not Fletcher," said Remus, looking horrified. "Are you serious?"

Mary's face reddened. She nodded and looked down at her sticks, blinking back tears.

"That's sick," said Peter. "He was a really clever cat, too."

"He was part-Kneazle, for sure," agreed Marlene, wrapping her arms around Mary.

"Where did Mulciber get an  _undead kitten_ , though?" asked James, still stuck on Marlene's previous comment.

Marlene rolled her eyes at him. "You know that gang he goes round with all want to be Death Eaters. They probably thought it'd be a laugh."

"Who wants to bet they tell the examiners that during our O.W.L.s, too?" asked Peter, dropping his voice to imitate Mulciber's slow drawl. "'Yes, sir, I've been up all night studying, What's-His-Name won't accept anything less than an E in Charms…'"

Mary cracked a smile at that, but James didn't laugh. Lily wasn't smiling either; she had snapped one of her twigs to bits, brow furrowed.

After class, Lily caught James by the arm. "We need to talk," she said, glancing at Remus and Peter. "Just us, if you don't mind."

"Finally decided to go out with me, Evans?" asked James, but he waved at his friends. "You lot go on; I'll catch you up."

As soon as they were alone, Lily dragged him behind the greenhouse. "You  _can't_  go getting revenge on Mulciber," she told him firmly.

James raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Because it's just going to escalate until someone gets hurt," she said. "The same way it's escalated with Severus."

"Some people deserve to get what's coming to them, though," James said. "I mean, Merlin's sake, Evans, a dead kitten…"

There was a knowing look on Lily's face. "Did Severus deserve what was coming to  _him_?"

James realized at once that he'd fallen into a trap. "That — I mean, yeah, but…"

"But you saved him," she said. "And that creates a good opportunity to let things cool off between you two for a bit. But if you jump right into making Mulciber your new target, or rival, or whatever…"

She was right, and James knew it, but he didn't want to cede the point. "If you're suggesting I just sit back and do nothing —"

"Don't put words into my mouth," said Lily coolly. "I'm  _suggesting_  that you and your mates use those brains of yours for something good for once. Find a way to get back at the blood purists that doesn't involve hexing them between classes. Show the school that the bad eggs are the minority here. Do something, I don't know,  _uplifting_."

James considered her words for a moment. "Would you go out with me if I did?"

He barely managed to dodge her kick. "I'm kidding!" he said, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "But just to clarify, you're saying you would be super impressed with me if I used my powers of troublemaking for good."

“You’re impossible,” said Lily. “ _ Don’t _ go doing anything on your own. You’ve got no common sense, you’ll ruin it. Get Remus’ approval first, he’s sensible.”

James grinned widely at that. “Ah, Evans, you have a lot to learn. Remus is even wilder than I am.” And before she could respond, he began to stroll, whistling, towards the castle.

 


	9. The Electrical Storm

The following week marked the beginning of the Easter holidays, and Sirius Black vanished from Hogwarts.

James knew Sirius' absence could mean only one thing — he had gone home for the holidays. The fact that Sirius would willingly subject himself to his awful family just to appease Remus settled like a weight in James' stomach, but he didn't dare broach the subject with Remus, who seemed to neither notice nor care that Sirius had left the castle.

James, on the other hand, felt Sirius' disappearance keenly; the castle was eerily quiet without him around. The previous year, he and Sirius had celebrated Easter by using an Engorgement Charm to inflate a bunny until it was the size of a large horse before setting it loose on Professor Sprout's vegetable patch. The rabbit had proceeded to eat every radish in the garden before hopping into the Forbidden Forest, its huge paws creating wide craters in the mud.

This year, in contrast, the holidays consisted mostly of James following Remus and Peter around as they revised for their O.W.L.s. James thought he'd never been quite so familiar with the library, save for the brief stint during second year where they had spent weeks sneaking into the Restricted Section after curfew to find books on Animagi.

"Go on, quiz me then, if you're so bored," Remus said irritably one day, sliding his Potions book across the table. James looked up, startled; while Remus and Peter had been studying, he had taken it upon himself to Transfigure Remus' wizarding chess pieces into miniature Quidditch players, who were now speeding back and forth across the table, engaged in a rowdy match.

"Who said I was bored? White's got some amazingly aggressive Chasers, look —"

Peter flinched as a tiny Quaffle bounced off of his forehead, landing in his inkwell. "It  _is_  a little distracting, mate."

"Well, seeing as you lot don't want to play Quidditch with me —"

"I don't know if you've noticed," said Remus, "but not all of us can pass our O.W.L.s by harnessing the power of positive thinking. Some of us actually have to study."

"I have to study, too," said James, crossing his arms. "By playing Quidditch. Since I'm going to be a professional  _Quidditch player_."

"Well, you've already got an O in being an annoying git," said Peter, "so that's one subject taken care of, at least."

James flicked his wand and one of the miniature Bludgers went zooming up Peter's nose, causing him to snort and cough so loudly that Madam Pince banned them from the library for the rest of the afternoon.

On the last day of Easter holidays, James spotted Sirius in the Gryffindor common room, chatting with Marlene McKinnon. As James climbed through the portrait hole, Sirius' grey eyes slid towards him. Sirius arched one eyebrow, asking a silent question —  _ready yet?_

James shook his head in response, and Sirius' face fell. Turning, James took the stairs to the boy's dormitory two at a time, the knot in his stomach like a lead weight.

The next day, James and Peter were both scheduled for career counselling with Professor McGonagall in the early afternoon, so they decided to skive off the entirety of Care of Magical Creatures in favour of taking an extended lunch with Remus by the lake.

"What'd you talk about with Minnie?" James asked, biting into a sandwich.

Remus shrugged. "Nothing too exciting. She wanted to know what my post-Hogwarts goals are. Didn't seem very impressed with my level of ambition."

James and Peter exchanged glances. "Did you do that thing where you insist you won't be able to hold a job after graduation?" Peter asked. "Because you know we think that's —"

"It's  _not_  rubbish," said Remus, tearing his sandwich into bits. "It's the truth. When I have to miss days on the job… when people figure out the pattern…"

"You just need something where you can set your own schedule," said James. "Be a travelling salesman or something. Did Minnie have any ideas?"

"She had one," said Remus darkly. "And it was terrible. She offered me a position at Hogwarts."

James and Peter stared at Remus, whose expression indicated that death would be preferable to working at Hogwarts.

Peter recovered first. "But that's not terrible at all! Seems quite reasonable to me, actually."

"Yeah," said James, nodding. "Since we know Dumbledore's fine about your furry little problem, and you've already got the Shrieking Shack set up. Makes a lot of sense that you'd work here after graduating."

"You don't get it," said Remus. He looked down at his sandwich, seeming surprised that it was shredded into pieces, and began to pull tufts of grass up from the ground. "I'd be around  _children_. If something happened — like what happened with Snape…"

"That was a fluke," growled James. "You've gone five years without an issue, the Snape thing only happened because Sirius interfered. You're not normally a danger, Moony."

Remus snorted. "Right, I'm not a danger, except for once a month when I turn into a creature whose entire purpose is to consume human flesh. It's not  _safe_ for me to be here, you can't convince me that it is, not after —"

"I mean, Minerva's not offering you the job right this second," interrupted Peter. "You still have a couple of years to think about it."

"I'm not going to change my mind," said Remus. "I already told her so."

"Moony, I hate to say it, but Pete's right," said James. "You don't have to decide now. Just let the idea percolate a bit, and come back to it in a few years, after our N.E.W.T.s." He checked his watch. "We need to get going if we're gonna make it on time. Ready, Pete?"

After they reached the first floor, Peter's appointment lasted barely ten minutes. He emerged from McGonagall's office, giving James the thumbs-up.

"Told her I'm gonna be a House-Elf Relocation Officer," he said. "Like my mum. Minerva seemed to think I could do better, but…" He shrugged. "They only want 2 O.W.L.s, so I figure it's a safe bet."

"Way to underachieve, Pete," said James, high-fiving him.

Peter grinned. "Your turn to let her down next."

James strolled into the office, hands in his pockets, and plunked down into the chair in front of Professor McGonagall's desk. "You called, Professor?"

Professor McGonagall inclined her head a little. "Potter. As I'm sure you're aware, the purpose of this meeting is to provide guidance before your O.W.L.s, so that you may have some idea of the career path you wish to follow."

"Easy," said James at once. "I'm going to be a professional Quidditch player."

Professor McGonagall's lips tightened into a tiny semblance of a smile. "I thought you might say something like that. Have you ever considered any… alternative options?"

"Sure," said James, ticking them off his fingers. "Quidditch commentator… Quidditch analyst… Quidditch team manager, though I don't think I have the organizational skills for that one…"

"I meant something outside the realm of Quidditch," said Professor McGonagall, who looked like she was beginning to get a headache.

James looked at her blankly. "Why would I want to do anything other than Quidditch?"

"Potter," said Professor McGonagall, massaging one of her temples, "your father consults with the Ministry. Surely you know what the political climate is like right now?"

"Er," said James, "Yeah, sort of. I mean, everyone's getting worked up about that pure-blood rubbish, and there's a mysterious Dark wizard who's goading people on, right?"

"That is the gist of it," said Professor McGonagall, seeming relieved that James wasn't completely oblivious to the world around him. "Our Headmaster believes that the current attacks, motivated by blood status, will devolve into a full-fledged war. With this in mind, it is important for talented individuals — people like you — to position themselves appropriately. You excel at Transfiguration; you would have no trouble landing a job as an Unspeakable at the Ministry, creating weapons to fight, if you so choose."

"I can fight by playing Quidditch," said James. At the look on McGonagall's face, he added, "I mean, keeping people entertained is important, too, right? Especially if there's going to be a war like you said."

Professor McGonagall closed her eyes for a second and took a breath before responding. "Potter, you know that I am as much a fan of Quidditch as you are. But Quidditch will always remain a mere sport. I am speaking of something bigger."

James' mouth fell open. He hadn't thought Professor McGonagall believed in anything bigger than Quidditch. It was why they got along so well.

"If you insist on pursuing a career in Quidditch, then I cannot stop you," continued Professor McGonagall. "But I must reiterate; this is a time to  _act._  To put the skills you take for granted to good use."

"You sound like Lily Evans," said James. "She told me to use my troublemaking powers for the greater good."

The corner of Professor McGonagall's mouth twitched. "Miss Evans is wise beyond her years."

After James left Professor McGonagall's office, promising her he'd at least consider a career beyond Quidditch, he made his way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, mind swirling. Professor McGonagall had known about his Quidditch ambitions since his first year at Hogwarts, and she had loved him for it. She'd encouraged him — she was the one who had made him Captain when it was only his fifth year! Hearing her say that she expected him to do something bigger with his life made no sense. And yet…

"Good news, lads," James said, plopping down beside Remus and Peter. "We've been given a job to do."

* * *

On Saturday morning, Lily was eating breakfast with Marlene and Mary when a huge flock of owls swooped into the Great Hall, clutching multicoloured pamphlets in their talons and beaks. Students began to murmur and occasionally shriek as the owls soared low over the tables, clipping the students with their wings. A large barn owl glided over the heads of the Gryffindors before releasing its many papers from its talons, scattering them across the table.

"What the —" began Marlene, picking up a leaflet that had fallen into her pumpkin juice. It was dazzling, flashing all different colours of the rainbow. On its front, it read in bubble letters:

**SO YOU WANT TO BE A DEATH EATER?**

Mary flipped open the nearest pamphlet, face pale, but after a moment of reading, she began to giggle.

"What's so funny?" demanded Lily.

"Oh, this is gold," said Marlene, tossing her pamphlet to Lily, who opened it.

_Are you tired of studying Charms when you could be studying Curses?_

_Do you not need an O in Divs for your Inner Eye to see that you're better than everybody else?_

_Consider giving the Wizarding World the two-fingered salute and joining the Death Eaters!_

_All you need is the soul of a Dementor, a superiority complex, and a passing score on your E.V.I.L.s (Exacting Villainous IQ Levels)! Practising Dark Magic was never so easy!_

_The E.V.I.L.s will be administered at 4pm in Dungeon One. No revising required — just bring yourself, your quill, and a willingness to squash the peons who interfere with your rise to power!_

_The test will be followed by a meet-and-greet with You-Know-Who himself!_

"This can't be real," said Lily, flipping the leaflet over to see if anything was hidden on the other side.

"'Course it's not," said Marlene. "But you can bet every Galleon you own I'm gonna be taking my E.V.I.L.s this afternoon."

"Considering a career change, then, McKinnon?" called James from down the table, looking very pleased with himself. Beside him, Remus and Peter nodded their approval.

"Thinking about it," said Marlene. "Whoever made this pamphlet was  _very_ convincing."

"I can't wait to meet What's-His-Name," said Mary, her eyes wide. "I have so many questions for him."

"Now, now, Mary," said Remus, reaching across the table to pat her hand. "I'm sure Whatever-He's-Called will be happy to answer you the best he can."

"They say he's extremely accommodating," agreed Peter. "I've only heard good things."

On impulse, Lily glanced at the Slytherin table. Severus was holding a pamphlet, and his dark eyes looked murderous. She wanted to cross the Great Hall, tell him to lighten up, that it was just a joke.  _But what if it's not?_  asked a quiet voice in her head.  _Not to him, at least._

Dungeon One contained a central podium surrounded by many rows of tiered seats, which were just barely enough to accommodate all of the students who had crammed into the room to take their E.V.I.L.s. Three hooded figures wearing badges bearing the words  _DEATH EATER_ directed students to available seats and passed out quills to those who didn't have them. Lily, Marlene and Mary were ushered to seats near the front, close to the podium.

Once most of the students had been seated, one of the hooded figures jumped onto the desk at the centre of the podium, nearly unbalancing a stack of papers as he did so.

"Witches and warlocks, aspiring agents of barbarity, welcome to your E.V.I.L.s examination!" cried the Death Eater, sounding suspiciously like James Potter. "Those who pass will be added to our ranks. Not to worry, though; if you don't prove evil enough for the Death Eaters, we're sure we can find you a life of petty crime that will fill your rotten little heart with joy and purpose!"

A second Death Eater joined the first on the podium.

"The test will be graded as follows," said the Death Eater, who seemed to have Remus' voice. He waved his wand, and writing appeared on the blackboard behind him.

**EXACTING VILLAINOUS IQ LEVELS**

_**Pass Grades** _

_Obscene (O)_

_Extremely Excessive (E)_

_Awful (A)_

_**Fail Grades** _

_Priggish (P)_

_Dull (D)_

_Tryhard (T)_

"You have half an hour to complete the test," said the first Death Eater from where he stood on top of the desk. "When you receive your exam, you may begin!"

A third, shorter Death Eater scrambled onto the podium and set a large hourglass atop the desk, at the feet of the first Death Eater. As the sand began to fall from the hourglass, the Death Eaters flourished their wands in unison, sending copies of the test swirling about the room.

Lily snatched a test out of the air, turning it over and scratching her name at the top. The first question read:

_You, a follower of the Dark Lord, are tasked with wiping out a segment of the population. Do you first target a) people who make weird noises when eating, b) people who like clowns, or c) the clowns themselves? Discuss._

Lily smiled and began to compose her response. Beside her, Marlene was grinning from ear to ear as she filled out her exam.

By the time Lily finished the test, there were only a few grains of sand left in the hourglass, and the room was filling with murmurs as students compared answers.

"And that's it, time's up!" announced the first Death Eater from the front of the classroom. He waved his wand to collect the exams, which came zooming towards him, forming a haphazard pile atop the desk.

"An impartial Dark artefact will grade your exams," said the second Death Eater, pulling a long, dark quill from beneath his robes. "This quill has been cursed to recognize villainous potential and give feedback accordingly."

"While you are waiting for your E.V.I.L.s to be graded, we suggest you have a chat with our fearless leader," continued the first Death Eater. "I am proud to present to you our malevolent master, the Darkest of wizards himself, the one, the only… LORD WHAT'S-HIS-NAME!"

The third, shortest Death Eater emerged from a door at the back of the classroom, carrying something large and rectangular that was covered in cloth. He set the rectangular object carefully atop the desk before pulling off the cloth, revealing what was underneath.

It was a portrait of a wizard, but it was the most poorly-drawn portrait Lily had ever seen. It almost looked like modern art, but she was sure that wasn't the intention. The wizard's eyes were different sizes and pointed in different directions, while his mouth was merely a squiggle. The wizard attempted to twirl his wand, which was little more than a line, but his fingers were misshapen and lumpy, like sausages, and his wand fell to the bottom of the painting. Titters spread through the classroom as students surged forward to get a better look, the three Death Eaters doing their best to direct the queue.

"Merlin above," said Marlene, pushing past a group of Hufflepuffs in an attempt to get closer to the front. Beside her, Mary was covering her mouth in a fruitless attempt to stop giggling. "James and his mates really are rubbish at painting, aren't they?"

"Hello, Lord Whatever-Your-Name-Is," said Sally Dearborn, a sixth year Gryffindor who was first to reach the portrait. "This is quite the honour. I've heard rumours about your hideous appearance, but I never expected you to look quite so…"

"Intimidating?" asked Lord What's-His-Name, whose voice was high and a bit babyish. He did a little twirl inside the painting and stumbled a bit due to the fact that his legs were uneven.

"Yeah, that's the word I was looking for," said Sally.

As Lily, Mary, and Marlene reached the painting, the first Death Eater waved them over, lowering his hood.

"Terrifying, isn't he?" asked James, jerking a thumb towards the portrait. "Never underestimate Remus' sheer lack of artistic talent."

"It's impressively bad," agreed Marlene. The second Death Eater turned at her words, and though Lily couldn't see under his hood, she was pretty sure he was beaming.

"Where's Sirius?" asked Mary, craning her head and looking around at the crowd. "Thought there'd be a fourth Death Eater here today…"

"Detention," said James at once. "Poor bloke's missing out on all the fun. Thoughts, Evans?"

"Promise you'll never attempt a portrait of me," said Lily, staring at Lord What's-His-Name, whose lopsided eyes bulged out at her.

"I am the scourge of Britain!" squeaked the painting. "Fear my power!" He wiggled his noodle-like limbs at her, which was not remotely threatening.

"Wanna hear the  _pièce de résistance_?" said James, gesturing her to come closer. "When we're done, we're planning on hanging him in Dumbledore's office."

It took another thirty minutes for the black quill to finish grading the stack of exams, by which time most students had been able to interact with the painting to their heart's content. To Lily's amusement, Lord What's-His-Name refused to make any slurs against Muggle-borns, opting instead to rant about clowns using epithets that grew steadily more absurd.

"Your results, then, Evans," said James, putting his hood back on. Lily took her exam from him, unrolling it carefully. The word  _Tryhard_ was scrawled in red across the top of the parchment, followed by several sentences in varied handwriting, despite having come from the same enchanted quill.

_Mr JFP, Death Eater, would like to offer his condolences to Miss Evans on failing her E.V.I.L.s. He would also like the record to show that he believes she deserves a perfect mark on anything she attempts, and it was only the interference of his so-called colleagues that prevented a passing score._

_Mr RJL, Death Eater, is sure Miss Evans will agree that having red hair and being pretty is not good enough evidence that one deserves a perfect mark on an exam._

_Mr PPP, Death Eater, would like to add that Miss Evans shouldn't take her failure personally, as her friend Mary MacDonald scored even more poorly than she did._

"Ha!" said Marlene, scanning her exam. "I got an O! Wizarding Britain better watch out!"

"Congratulations on becoming a Death Eater," said Remus from beneath his Death Eater hood. He handed her a shining, rainbow badge, which read  _I got an O on my E.V.I.L.s!_

"Better luck next time, Evans," said James, holding out a different badge, which flashed with the words  _I failed my E.V.I.L.s!_

"I deserved better than a T and you know it," said Lily, but she took the badge anyway. "I'm incredibly sneaky! I should have passed!"

"You've never had more than three detentions in your life, plus you're a prefect," said Remus. "That doesn't scream Dark wizard to me. Marlene, on the other hand…"

Marlene preened as she affixed her badge to her robes. "How'd you get that quill to write with your personalities, anyway? I'm assuming you modified an Auto-Answer Quill, but beyond that…"

"We told you," said Peter innocently. "It's a Dark artefact. Probably created by You-Know-Who himself."

As students began to file out, James pulled Lily aside before she could leave the classroom. "So what did you think? Was that a morale-booster or what?"

Lily raised her eyebrows. "My failing mark aside, it wasn't a bad effort. I do have one suggestion, though."

James crossed his arms and tilted his chin at her. "Go on, then, Miss I-Got-A-T. Impress me."

"You said you were going to put Lord What's-His-Name in Dumbledore's office, but I can think of a better place," she said. "The Slytherin common room, for instance."

James gaped at her. "You're right," he said once he'd recovered the power of speech. "You  _did_ deserve an O. That's the most devious thing I've heard all day."

"I try," said Lily, winking at him. James blinked in surprise, a goofy smile spreading across his face, and she took the opportunity to skip out of the classroom, glad he couldn't see her grin.

* * *

Bella found Severus in Dungeon Thirteen, practising his new spell on a jar of pickled toads. "Brutal," she said lightly, watching him point his wand at yet another hapless toad, splitting its rubbery flesh with the ease of cutting through butter.

"I should hope so," said Severus through gritted teeth as he Vanished the remains of the toad. He plucked another out of the jar and set it in front of him.

"Does this have anything to do with the incident at the Whomping Willow?" she asked.

"Perhaps," said Severus, slashing his wand through the air until the toad was no longer recognizable.

Bella picked up the toad by what had previously been one of its legs, making a face as she dangled it in the air in front of her. "Should I take this to mean that you have not managed to capture a werewolf?"

"I'm going in a different direction," said Severus, holding out his hand. Bella dropped the toad into it. "Werewolves are resistant to the more common forms of battle magic. Hence this spell."

Bella nodded approvingly. "You're turning your focus to defensive magic."

"Or offensive," said Severus. "In either case, for use against those you do not mind killing."

"For enemies," said Bella softly.

Severus nodded. "It's not perfect yet. When I get it right, the spell will be like a hot knife. It will cut through most forms of flesh. Werewolves, troll skin, giant hide…"

"In other words," said Bella, "It will be an excellent tool for recruiting those who might need persuasion."

Severus pulled another toad out of the jar. "Do you…" He paused, turning over the toad in his hands. "Do you think this spell will be sufficient? Or should I look elsewhere for my pledge?"

Bella smiled and laid a hand on his arm. "You have never disappointed me yet, Sev. I'm sure Lucius — and the Dark Lord — will be very pleased."

Severus exhaled a little, placing the toad on the table in front of him and readying his wand. Bella watched him, seemingly lost in thought. Finally, she cocked her head to the side and looked shrewdly at Severus.

"Would you like to learn something new?"

"That depends," said Severus, rending the toad's skin with a sickening squelch. "I find some of the things we have learned… distasteful. The Inferi, for instance."

"This won't be like that at all," Bella assured him, her eyes wide. "This I think you'll like. It's proper magic, old magic. It will give you an edge in combat and when dealing with others."

Severus' lip turned up at the corner. "I could use some help in dealing with others."

"I'll speak to Lucius," said Bella. "I'll have to ask his permission. But I think he'll agree that you're a good candidate. What do you say?"

Severus Vanished the unfortunate toad. "I'm in."

Later that week, Bella found Severus in the fifth-floor corridor and dragged him behind a statue of Boris the Bewildered. "Lucius said yes," she told him, her eyes shining. "He gave permission. Are you free this evening, after dinner?"

Severus shrugged. "We — Avery, Mulciber, and I — have plans to work on a Defense essay in the library…"

"Blow them off," said Bella, waving her hand. "Tell them you're with me, they'll understand. I'll meet you in Dungeon Thirteen, alright?"

Severus nodded, and Bella pulled him into a brief hug. "I'm so excited," she whispered into his ear. "You're going to love this."

Before he could respond, she darted out from behind the statue, joining the throng of students making their way to class.

When he arrived at Dungeon Thirteen that evening, Bella was perched in one of the white armchairs, wrapped in a red silk robe embroidered with cherry blossoms and sipping a teacup.

"Tea?" she asked, indicating the china set on the pouffe beside her. Severus nodded, settling into an armchair and pouring himself a cup. "Told you this would be more civilized than making Inferi," said Bella, winking at him.

"So far, at least," said Severus dryly.

"To business, then," said Bella, draining the last of her tea. "Have you heard of a branch of magic called Occlumency?"

Severus shook his head and she smiled, flashing her white, square teeth at him. "I didn't think so. It's old, obscure, and difficult to master. Right up your alley, if you ask me."

"What's the point?"

"Occlumency shields your mind from intrusion," explained Bella. "There's a different sort of magic — Legilimency — that grants access to the mind of another. If you've mastered Occlumency, the Legilimens can rifle through your mind but see only what you want him to see, and he'll be none the wiser."

A thought struck Severus. "Is Legilimency how you always know when we're not telling the truth?"

Bella's smile grew wider. "It's not quite as complicated as that. Teenage boys are simply hopeless liars." She barked a laugh.

"So how do I use Occlumency?" asked Severus. "Is there a spell?"

"No," said Bella, drawing her wand. The motion sent the embroidered cherry blossoms on her robes swirling, as if they had been disturbed by wind. "You just have to discipline your mind. To conceal your secrets so completely that they are even hidden from yourself."

She leaned forward and cupped his chin in her hand, her grey eyes boring into his. "Get ready," she said softly. "One, two, three…  _Legilimens._ "

At once, Severus' mind was filled with images. He was three and wearing a dirty shirt and a sagging cloth diaper, the only clothes he owned… he was seven, and his father was striking his mother… he was nine and watching a girl with flaming red hair swing through the air, higher, higher…

The sound of shattering china brought Severus out of his reverie. He had dropped his teacup.

"No matter," said Bella calmly, pointing her wand at the shards scattered across the plush white rug. The teacup mended itself and jumped back into his hand. "Let's try again," she said, pouring him more tea.

"Did you…" began Severus. "Were you able to see the same things I did?"

"Yes," said Bella simply. She looked at him plainly, without pity or embarrassment. "There is shame associated with those memories. Shame is a strong emotion; it is easy to pull such memories to the surface of the mind. You must learn to treat your secrets with indifference, as if they belonged to someone else. That is how you hide them."

She leaned forward until they were nearly nose-to-nose once more. "We will try again," she said. " _Legilimens._ "

A boy much bigger than Severus was punching him in the mouth… His father was laughing at him… He felt the shame welling up in him and tried to bury it, to feel indifferent, to feel safe… His mum was creeping into his room in the middle of the night, healing his tooth with her dusty old wand, a finger to her lips… now Lily was the one shushing him as they crouched in the bushes, hiding from Petunia… He was watching McGonagall place the Sorting Hat on Lily's head, stomach sinking as the hat shouted " _Gryffindor"_ … Lily was taking him by the arm outside Slughorn's office, sending thrills up his spine…

Severus blinked and came back to himself. Bella had lowered her wand, brow furrowed.

"I wasn't aware you had such a history with your Mudblood friend," she said quietly. "I thought you two met at Hogwarts. I didn't know you were childhood friends as well."

"It doesn't matter," said Severus quickly. "It's not — it doesn't interfere with…"

"You don't understand," said Bella impatiently. "You  _must_  learn to suppress these thoughts. Your family history will surprise nobody who peruses your mind, but your feelings for the Mudblood are a great weakness. If the wrong sort of person found out, someone like Lucius…" She let the sentence dangle ominously.

"Are you going to tell him?"

"I am your mentor," said Bella, taking his face in her hand again. "What I learn about you does not leave this room." She raised her wand and focused her eyes on his. "Discipline your mind. Do not let thoughts of the Mudblood tempt you into giving away your secrets. You do not wear your emotions on your sleeve; so it should be with your mind.  _Legilimens._ "

This time, Severus tried a different tactic, letting his mind jump from association to association without dwelling on the memories that arose. His father was advancing on him, brandishing his belt like a whip… his father became Lily, striding towards him in the Forbidden Forest, wand out… Lily became James, who became Sirius, pinning him to the infirmary cot, who became his father again, who became Mulciber, the images gathering speed until one was barely distinguishable from another… And the memories began to fade from his view as Bella's eyes came into focus, clearer and clearer until all he saw were her large grey eyes staring at him, close enough he could count her individual lashes.

Severus pulled back, breaking their connection. "Based on what you have just seen," he said, "what would you say my feelings are towards Lily Evans?"

Bella cocked her head, considering the question. A smile began to play about her lips. "I'm not sure," she said. "It's a start."

* * *

As the weather grew warmer, April gave way to May, and Remus showed no signs of forgiving Sirius. Whenever Sirius was in their vicinity, which was increasingly rare, Remus ignored him completely, giving no indication that he was even aware of Sirius' existence. James would occasionally bring up Sirius' name in conversation to see if Remus was softening, but such attempts were fruitless; Remus would merely go conveniently deaf and change the subject to their approaching O.W.L.s.

Sirius, for his part, was becoming harder and harder to locate. He had begun to miss class, and had stopped showing up to History of Magic entirely. Occasionally, James would pass him in the hallway, but no matter how much James tried to make eye contact, to convey his remorse that things had gone this far, Sirius refused to look at him.

It was with this in mind that James sat in History of Magic, doodling in the margins of his parchment and trying not to glance at Sirius' empty seat. It was unusually hot outside, and the heat seemed to seep into the classroom, nearly stifling him. Between the drone of Professor Binns' voice, the oppressive stillness of the air, and Sirius' increasingly conspicuous absence, James was ready to drive his own quill through his head.

There was a loud crack, jolting him out of his reverie. He'd pressed down on his parchment too hard, snapping his quill.

"Tell us how you really feel, mate," said Peter, handing him another.

"What are we even doing here?" muttered James. "This entire class is a waste of my time. Goblin wars, my arse. Sirius had the right idea — " He broke off, looking at Remus guiltily.

Remus smiled slightly, continuing to outline his notes. "I expect things will become rather more interesting before long."

"Oh yeah?" asked James. "How's that?" There was a rumble in the distance, like a far-off train.

"Well," said Remus, "I subscribe to the  _Daily Prophet_ , which I believe you're quite fond of mocking me for."

"And rightly so," said Peter. "You're a shame to our troublemaking name with a goody-goody habit like that."

Remus continued as if he hadn't heard. "You may not be aware of this, having never read a paper yourself, but newspapers have an awful lot of different sections. A weather forecast, for instance."

James scoffed. "Who needs a forecast when we've got the Great Hall?"

"That's the thing," said Remus. "As the weather grows warmer, a specific kind of meteorological event tends to occur under certain conditions. And the Daily Prophet has been predicting all week that we are due for one such event this afternoon."

"Fascinating," said James sarcastically. "I can tell your subscription is a Knut well spent —"

A second rumble, rather louder than the first, shook the room, and James came to a realization. "Oh."

"Oh," echoed Peter.

Remus smiled to himself, beginning a new bullet point on his parchment. "Exactly."

"Are we —" began Peter, looking frantically at James.

"Well, we have to, don't we?" said James, sweeping his things into his bag. "Quick, jinx me, and we can get out of here."

"With what?" asked Peter, scrambling in his bag for his wand. "Come on, James, I'm blanking here —"

Remus drew his wand from his sleeve and flicked it at Peter. " _Prandium emitus_."

Immediately, Peter began to retch, clutching his stomach as the partially-digested contents of his lunch spilt across his desk.

James took the opportunity to leap to his feet. "Erm, excuse me, Professor!" he called. Every head in the class swivelled towards him, and Professor Binns paused his lecture, blinking for a moment before peering down his glasses at James.

"Yes, Potter?"

"Sorry to interrupt, but Peter's quite ill," explained James, wrapping an arm around Peter's waist. "Think it's best if I help him down to the infirmary. Right this second. Really can't wait."

"Right... yes, yes, naturally," said Professor Binns, sounding somewhat dazed. "Feel better, Pettigrew..." He looked back down at his notes, squinting. "As I was saying, when Agrock the Atrocious reached the battlefield…"

As soon as James and Peter reached the corridor, they broke into a sprint, Peter still holding his stomach.

"Where are we going?" Peter panted.

"Dormitories," James said. "To get our potions. Then to the second floor, to the statue of Cornelia the Unbalanced. The one that leads to the grotto by the lake."

They burst into their dorms, and James brandished his wand at his bedside table. " _Alohomora_!"

" _Not so fast_ ," came an echo of James' own voice from the drawer of the bedside table. " _Password_?"

"Operation: Safari Park," said James, and the drawer sprung open with a bang. Inside, nestled in a black cloth, were the three small vials of potion.

"You put a password on it?" asked Peter incredulously. "I wasn't going to peek…"

"It wasn't just for you," said James. "The potions had to remain undisturbed. Couldn't afford to take chances." He scooped up two of the vials, leaving the one in the middle.

"Shouldn't we…" began Peter, staring at the lone vial remaining in the drawer.

"No point," said James, feeling a pang of remorse as the words left his mouth. "No way Sirius has kept up with the incantations. Besides, we don't even know where he is, and we don't have time to wait."

He handed Peter one of the vials and stuffed the other in his bag. He didn't bother to shut the drawer before running out of the room, Peter at his heels. They tore through the castle, knocking over suits of armour and nearly tumbling down the stairs in their haste to get to the second floor.

James reached the statue of Cornelia the Unbalanced first and quickly traced an inappropriate word on the statue's forehead with his wand. As he finished, the base of the statue shifted, revealing a hole in the floor. Down the tunnel they went, the air around them growing damp and warm as they descended. At last, the mouth of the tunnel widened, opening into the grotto.

Remus was standing on a mossy rock where the grotto met the edge of the lake, his head tilted towards the rain. "Beautiful place, this," he said lightly, but his hands were trembling.

"Good spot for it, too," said Peter nervously as a flash of lightning illuminated the damp stone walls of the grotto. "It's got land and water, plus it's open to air… whatever we become, it'll —"

A rumble of thunder drowned out the rest of his words.

"That's enough stalling, I expect," said James, drawing his vial from the pocket of his robes. To his surprise, the crimson liquid inside had turned a deep brown. His pulse accelerated, and he thought he could feel a second heartbeat matching time with his own, each beat stronger and more forceful than the last.

Peter had one hand pressed against his chest while the other clutched his vial, which had turned a sandy beige. He glanced anxiously at James. "Do you feel that?"

"Yeah," said James. His second heartbeat was thumping loudly, becoming more insistent by the second, as if it were about to overtake his human heart.

"Mine's so  _fast_ ," said Peter, massaging his chest. "Really not the best feeling…"

"This ought to make it better," said James, clinking Peter's vial against his own. "Cheers, mate."

Peter nodded, face white, and the two boys downed the potion. Immediately, a clap of thunder sounded which seemed to carry with it the rolling, wild cries of animals great and small, and then there was silence.


	10. Amato Animo Animato Animagus

The first thing James noticed was that he had grown quite tall. The second was that his head was very heavy.

Remus approached him cautiously, eyes wide. "Merlin's — bleeding… James, mate. Bloody  _hell_."

James pawed at the ground with one of his hooves — hooves! He had hooves! — and dipped his head, allowing Remus to scratch the fur there. Remus' hand drifted towards his ear, knocking against something hard — horns, maybe? James tilted his head, giving Remus what he hoped was a quizzical look.

Remus' face broke into a grin, and he wrapped his arms around James' long neck. "You're a stag, mate! A bloody stag! Beautiful creature, too." Remus' breath hitched, and James' nostrils flared as he caught the tang of salt drifting through the air.

"Thank you," said Remus, burying his face in James' fur. "Thank you. Thank you."

After a long moment, Remus drew back, wiping his eyes. Reaching up, he grabbed James' antlers to bring the stag's face level with his own.

"I've had three long years to deliberate exactly what sort of humiliating nicknames I would bestow upon you lot when I saw your animal forms," he said, beaming.

James let out a low whinny in protest, but Remus' smile grew wider. "Oh yes. I've come up with names for every animal under the sun. Moony is a bit of an unkind nickname, you know. I figure it's only right to return the favour. What say we call you… Prongs?" A wicked grin spread across Remus' face. "You know. Because you're  _horny_."

James snorted loudly and bucked his head, forcing Remus backwards.

"Don't tell me that's not hilarious!" protested Remus. "You're sixteen years old and you've got antlers. You are the  _definition_  of horny. It's perfect."

There was a squeaking sound, and a plump rat with sandy fur scurried up Remus' robes and onto his shoulder.

"Pete!" said Remus, grabbing the rat and cradling it in his hands. "Look at you! I think I might prefer you like this, honestly…"

The rat let out an offended chitter and tried to wriggle free of Remus' grasp.

"You're a little less conspicuous than Prongs here, at least," said Remus, placing Peter in the pocket of his robes. "What do you say, Wormtail? Comfortable?"

The shape in Remus' pocket shifted and grew. Remus stumbled backwards as the rat tumbled onto the ground; in the blink of an eye, Peter was sprawled in front of him.

"Wormtail?" asked Peter incredulously, dusting off his knees. "What sort of name is Wormtail?"

"Oh, there's loads more where that came from," said Remus jauntily, mussing Peter's hair. "I wouldn't push my luck if I were you."

"I spent years becoming an Animagus to keep your lonely wolf arse company and this is the thanks I get," scoffed Peter, but he didn't seem too put out. " _Wormtail_. Honestly."

James decided that he'd had quite enough of all this talking. He wanted to move, to stretch his new, powerful muscles. He snorted, startling both Remus and Peter, and then broke into a trot, leaving the grotto in favour of the sandy bank that bent around the Black Lake. He quickened his pace to a canter, and then a full-on gallop, his sides heaving with effort. He could feel the rain soaking the fur on his back as he raced around the lake, his thoughts becoming less human and more wild.

After taking a second, and then a third, lap of the lake, he returned to the grotto, slowing to a canter. As he took deep gulps of air into his lungs, he pictured himself walking on two legs. Before he knew it, he felt himself shrink. His head became lighter —  _much_  lighter — and he very nearly tripped over his own feet.

"Have a nice jog?" asked Remus, steadying him. "Never pictured you as much of a runner, myself…"

"You're loving this, aren't you?" said James, still panting.

Remus gave him a wide, lazy smile. "Why, yes. Yes, I am."

"Erm, not to be a spoilsport," said Peter, checking his watch, "but we still have Charms before dinner."

"Bugger Charms," said James grandly. "We can turn into animals on command. Let's go get pissed in the dormitory."

"Here, here," said Peter enthusiastically, and Remus nodded in agreement.

As James led the way through the tunnel to the second floor, he couldn't help but cast a backwards glance at the grotto. He wondered what sort of nicknames Remus had thought up for Sirius. He was probably better off not knowing, he decided, shaking himself a bit and continuing through the tunnel.

"When's the next full moon?" asked Peter as they climbed the stairs to the boy's dormitory.

"Next Thursday," said Remus automatically.

"Brilliant," said James, pushing the door open. "Less than a week to wait, then —"

He froze, and Peter collided with his back. A shaggy black dog the size of a bear was lying on Remus' bed.

"A Grim," said Peter immediately. "Merlin save us, a Grim —"

James' mind began to race as he remembered childhood stories of hounds whose very presence foretold disaster. He'd had a second cousin who'd slipped off her broomstick after seeing a Grim, hadn't he? At the funeral, his relatives had whispered amongst themselves about a big black dog when they thought he wasn't listening.

Remus stepped around James, a look of complete shock on his face. The dog raised its huge head, staring at Remus with mournful gray eyes. It thumped its tail hopefully.

" _Sirius_?"

The dog let out a little whine and thumped its tail harder.

Remus and the dog looked at each other for a moment before Remus darted forward. James reached for his wand, thinking Remus was going to attack the dog; instead, Remus landed roughly on top of it, embracing it and ruffling its fur.

The dog barked loudly and began to lick Remus' face.

"You're a Padfoot," said Remus. "A Padfoot!"

"A what?" asked Peter, sitting on his own bed and eyeing the dog warily.

"It's what my dad calls Hellhounds," explained Remus as the dog rolled onto its back. "It's another name for a Grim. You great, hairy omen of death… Gave us quite a fright, didn't you?" And he scratched the dog's stomach vigorously.

"All's forgiven, then, I suppose?" asked James once he had recovered the power of speech.

Remus paused and glanced at the dog, which looked suddenly guilty. It shifted uncomfortably, and then Sirius was sitting next to Remus, their shoulders touching.

"Erm, about that," said Sirius, running a hand through his hair. "I think, maybe — we ought to talk. I mean…" he glanced at James and Peter, looking extremely self-conscious. "Moony, can we go somewhere… private? I want to, erm, apologize, and I think it would be better if we… that is…"

"Private sounds good," said Remus graciously, ignoring Sirius' obvious discomfort. "There's a room on the seventh floor that'll be perfect, I'll show you…"

James and Peter looked at each other as soon as Remus and Sirius had left the dormitory.

"Well, that could have been worse," said Peter.

James nodded. "I've never heard Sirius apologize for  _anything_  before. Hopefully once they're alone he'll sound less like a stammering idiot…"

"I doubt it," said Peter, pulling a couple of bottles full of dark liquid out from under his mattress. "Firewhiskey?"

James and Peter had finished the first bottle of Firewhiskey and were well through the second by the time the door of the dormitory swung back open. Remus walked in, followed by the enormous black dog.

"So?" asked Peter, draining his glass. "Didja kiss and make up, then?"

"Something along those lines," said Remus, smiling. "It's hard to stay angry at Padfoot here. He's a very good boy, aren't you, Pads?"

The dog let out a joyful woof.

Later that evening, Sirius and James were sprawled on James' bed, trying to make their ceiling look like the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. Sirius eventually stowed his wand and rolled over to look at James, his expression earnest. "Thanks for leaving the drawer open, mate."

"Er, that was an accident," said James. He glanced reflexively across the room at Remus, who appeared to be thoroughly absorbed in his Charms homework.

"Right, sure it was," said Sirius, stretching and yawning. There was a rustle at James' side and Sirius, as Padfoot, curled up against his legs.

"You kept up with the incantations, didn't you?" murmured James, scratching between the dog's ears. "Even though we didn't speak to you for the better part of a month."

The dog bobbed its head in response.

"I must admit, I'm impressed," said James in a low voice. "Didn't think you had the discipline. Then again," he added as Padfoot cast him a baleful look, "you  _did_  end up transforming into a dog. Man's best friend and all that. If that's not a demonstration of loyalty, I dunno what is."

The dog let out a satisfied-sounding snort and stood up. It hopped off James' bed and joined Remus in his. Remus didn't look up from his homework as Padfoot snuggled next to him, but he did wrap an arm around the dog's neck, petting him almost absentmindedly as he turned the pages of his book.

James caught Peter's eye, and they smiled at each other. Then he laid back in bed, folding his arms behind his head and smiling contentedly at their half-enchanted ceiling. All was as it should be.

* * *

A horrible portrait of the Dark Lord had appeared in the Slytherin common room over the weekend, and the House was divided over whether or not it was in good taste. Most seemed to regard the painting as a vaguely amusing prank; Severus, of course, loathed the very sight of it, as he had a hunch about who its creators were. The other Intents found the portrait extremely disrespectful, and Bella in particular nearly had a fit when she realized that not even Avery could un-stick the painting from the wall.

The end result of this was that Bella came down on the Intents even harder, as if they personally had a hand in the creation of the portrait. She had them clean the common room using their own robes for rags nearly every night, much to Severus' exasperation. Unlike the other, pure-blood Intents, he only owned a few pairs of hand-me-down robes, and constant use was making them even more threadbare than they were already.

Bella's intensity expanded to Occlumency training, as well; she insisted that Severus spend every weekday evening practising with her, heedless of the fact that his O.W.L.s were less than a month away. Between the daily activities of the Intents, the weekly rituals, and now these Occlumency lessons, Severus' precious study time was rapidly dwindling down to nothing.

"Ha!" Bella barked one evening when Severus brought up the need to revise for his O.W.L.s. "You think the Dark Lord cares how many 'Outstandings' you get? You think he gives a rat's arse that you pass your precious Potions exam?"

"Forget it, then, and let's just go another round," snarled Severus, raising his wand. "Clearly keeping nameless mind-readers out of my head is more important than achieving passing marks on the exam that the entire Wizarding World considers to be—"

"You think this is about  _nameless mind-readers_?" said Bella, her voice rising. "You have no idea the advantage Occlumency gives you, the gift I have dropped into your ungrateful —"

"Obviously, and I'm sure the examiners —"

"DO NOT INTERRUPT!" she shrieked. There was a crack like a whip and sparks shot from her wand, startling both of them. Severus eyed her warily, biting his tongue.

"As I was saying," continued Bella, breathing deeply, "if you think it is an  _accident_  that I chose to teach you this magic, this magic  _in particular_ , then you are stupider than I thought."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "Enlighten me, then."

"There's going to be a test," said Bella. The words seemed to tumble out of her unbidden, as if she'd been dying to tell him for some time. "Before your Induction as Secondaries. Lucius is going to administer Veritaserum to all the Intents, and you will take turns asking each other a variety of… unpleasant questions. The exercise is designed to uncover the weaknesses of each Intent."

"And Occlumency is one method of bypassing Veritaserum."

"Not completely," said Bella. "You will still be forced to tell the truth. But if you master Occlumency, you will be able to hide your thoughts even from yourself, enabling you to speak only a version of the truth."

"Why give me such an advantage?" asked Severus. He still had not lowered his wand. "What do you have to gain by undermining Lucius?"

Bella laughed, running a hand through her wild curls. "Lucius was the one who gave the order that you should learn Occlumency! This is another tradition — allowing the most promising Intent to retain some semblance of their dignity when it comes time to be examined by their peers."

"And that's how you learned Occlumency," said Severus, putting the pieces together. "You were the most promising Intent." Bella nodded. She seemed more relaxed than she had moments ago, and he decided to push his luck. "What did you have to hide as an Intent?"

"Cheeky little Sev," said Bella, smiling broadly and raising her wand. "If you want to know so badly, why don't you try taking it from me?"

Severus' lips twitched. "Fine," he said, staring into her large gray eyes. " _Legilimens_."

At once, his mind filled with memories that were not his own, so vivid that he recoiled. There was so much to look at he didn't know where to start. A tiny girl with curly black hair was being Sorted; the Hat didn't so much as touch her head before shouting " _Slytherin_!"... A toddler in a green dress was chasing after her older sisters, laughing… Her mother was picking her up...

Severus began to feel slightly sick as the images flashed in his mind at a dizzying pace. Now the toddler was wearing the Sorting Hat, and the curly-haired girl was chasing her sisters. Now her mother was wearing a green dress, now the girl was staring at a raven whose neck was bent at an odd angle… Now the raven was in a green dress, wearing the Sorting Hat —

"Enough," he snapped, taking an involuntary step backwards as he broke the connection between them. He could feel the contents of his lunch rising in his throat, and he had to will himself not to be sick.

Bella looked completely unphased. She tilted her head. "Find anything useful?"

"Not remotely," he growled, and Bella smiled widely.

"Better luck next time, Sev. My turn, then…  _Legilimens_."

It was nearly midnight by the time Bella tired of coaching him, and Severus felt notes of panic growing in his chest as he headed to his dormitory. He was able to conceal his most incriminating feelings about Lily, but he couldn't erase her from his mind entirely. She was everywhere — in all of his Hogwarts years, in his summers in Cokeworth, in every memory of his childhood worth remembering. He couldn't get rid of her. He was certain that his mental barriers would be even weaker after being dosed with Veritaserum.

Severus carefully opened the door to his dormitory, glancing at Mulciber's sleeping form. They might have a shaky truce, but he had no doubt that when the time came, Mulciber wouldn't hesitate to question him about Lily. And how would he respond?

His insides twisted as he imagined himself babbling about Lily, how long he had known her, the things he would do for her, how he didn't care that she was Muggle-born. That being Muggle-born merely added to her brilliance. Would Lucius be content to decline his Induction into the Death Eaters at that point? Or would Severus simply vanish, the way Muggles across the country were doing with increasing frequency, if the  _Prophet_  was to be believed?

_It won't happen_ , he told himself firmly, changing into his dingy pyjamas and climbing into bed. But even as he practised his mind-clearing exercises that night, he couldn't shake the feeling that a mere two weeks of Occlumency lessons wouldn't be enough to strengthen his mental defences. He could hear Bella's voice echoing through his head, over and over.  _If the wrong people find out…_

He slept fitfully that night, and when he woke, it was with a pit in his stomach and a dreadful certainty about what he had to do.

* * *

The full moon rose the following Thursday, and James could barely sit still, he was so excited. He had such a hard time concentrating during class that Professor Flitwick actually took points when James flubbed a Banishing Charm so spectacularly that he exploded the cushion he was supposed to be practising on.

"Oh,  _dear_ ," muttered Sirius as Flitwick descended upon them, making James laugh hysterically and earning an additional point taken.

After the lesson, they parted ways with Remus at the hospital wing. "Don't forget to transform  _before_  you open the trapdoor," Remus reminded them, fiddling with the sleeves of his robes. "There's no rush if you can't manage the Transfiguration right away; just take your time, and when you're ready —"

"Remus, mate," said James. "Merlin's sake, stop worrying. You're starting to sound like my mum."

"I'm not  _worrying_. I'm going over the plan," said Remus with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Well, stop planning, then," said James, prodding Remus towards the doors of the hospital wing. "Poppy's waiting for you. We'll see you in, say" — he checked his watch — "an hour or so."

Hidden by the Invisibility Cloak in the shadows of the Forbidden Forest, they watched Remus and Madam Pomfrey disappear down the tunnel of the Whomping Willow. By the time Madam Pomfrey reemerged from between the roots of the tree, the Cloak was draped neatly over a branch, and three pairs of animal eyes watched her set off towards the castle.

The dog let out a whine of anticipation, and the rat darted out from the edge of the forest, scrabbling up the trunk of the Whomping Willow and pushing the knot that froze its swaying branches.

The first challenge came next — the dog and the rat slipped easily into the tunnel, but the stag was simply too large to fit.

" _Damn_  having horns," said James finally, straightening up and rubbing his head, which still felt sore from where he had tried to widen the tunnel with his antlers. The dog whined again, sounding worried.

"It's fine, Padfoot," said James, dropping into the tunnel. "I'll just have to transform inside the Shack. Don't think I'll be able to fit through the trapdoor with a massive set of antlers, either."

The dog barked loudly at that, and James laughed. "Well, you'll just have to distract Moony while I enter the Shack, won't you? Don't tell me you're not capable of that!"

The dog and the rat glanced at each other, but they followed him down the tunnel. In the end, James pulled down the trapdoor, and the dog launched itself inside, followed closely by the rat. James waited a few moments before hoisting himself into the Shack after them. From another room came a low, feral growl, followed by the sound of crashing furniture, and the dog yipped.

James closed his eyes, feeling the quick thrum of his pulse as he searched for the other, stronger heartbeat inside his chest. The second heartbeat grew louder, galloping, overtaking his own —

Prongs reared onto his hindquarters as the wolf came careening into the room, snapping its jaws at him. His front hooves landed on the floor with a thud, and the wolf skidded to a halt, sniffing curiously at the stag.

Padfoot bounded into the room, barking, and tackled the wolf, which yelped in surprise. The two wrestled on the floor, play-fighting and nipping each other's fur. Prongs joined in, using his antlers to toss the wolf to one side of the room, which was great fun. The dog promptly began to bark loudly, demanding to be tossed as well.

That first full moon, in many ways, reminded James of all the nights they had spent in the Shrieking Shack as humans, drinking and carrying on. Padfoot and the wolf, in particular, got on exceedingly well, being about equal in size and strength. Peter, as Wormtail, led them all in several rowdy games of Hide-and-Seek, and they tried to play Hunt with Prongs as the prey, but there wasn't quite enough room.

Dawn broke through the boarded-up windows of the Shack as all four creatures were using a battered old blanket to play a raucous game of Tug, which Wormtail was losing quite badly. The wolf collapsed as soon as the first rays of sunlight touched its skin, letting out a low moan and twitching slightly. The other animals dropped the blanket, watching the wolf with something that might have been labelled concern. The dog whined, stepping forward and nudging the wolf with its nose.

There was a horrible snapping sound, like many bones breaking at once, and the wolf shrieked; its back arched as its neck lengthened and fur receded, giving way to skin. With another anguished howl, the wolf's head jerked forward, and suddenly Remus Lupin lay on the floor, eyes closed.

With a clatter of hooves, James returned to his human form, dropping to his knees at Remus' side. "Alright, Moony?" he asked, placing a hand on Remus' back.

Remus stirred, blinking his eyes blearily. "Never… better," he rasped, and then broke off as a coughing fit wracked his body. Slowly, he rolled onto his back, wincing and clutching his side. "Think… you might have got me, Prongs…"

He lifted the corner of his shirt, revealing several spreading bruises and a gash, small but deep, across his ribs. Padfoot whimpered, glaring accusingly at James.

"Don't you give me that look!" said James defensively. "Sorry, Remus, mate. Want me to try my hand at a healing spell?"

"No need," said Remus hoarsely, pulling his shirt back down. "This is nothing compared to... compared to what I usually get up to. Madam Pomfrey'll be able to heal it in about a second. Speaking of…" he glanced at the sun coming in through the boarded-up windows. "You lot should probably take the long way back to Hogwarts. She'll be coming up through the tunnel soon."

After bidding Remus goodbye, the stag, dog and rat slipped out the door of the Shrieking Shack, making their leisurely way up to the castle from Hogsmeade. After eating an early breakfast, they went to Transfiguration, where James plopped into his seat, exhausted, but feeling thoroughly and wonderfully alive.

* * *

During free period on Wednesday afternoon, Severus managed to avoid revising with the other Intents by claiming that he still hadn't finished his pledge and needed the time to practise. As soon as he'd stepped out of the library, he made his way to the dungeons, rapping a clenched fist on the door to Slughorn's office.

"Sliverus!" boomed Professor Slughorn. "Come in, old boy! How can I help you?"

"Just wondering where Lily is, sir," said Severus quickly. "She wanted me to bring her some more rue. You know, for her independent study…" He let his voice trail off meaningfully as he reached under his robes, pulling out a bundle of rue.

"I'm sure Lily will appreciate the help," said Slughorn jovially. "Clever witch, that one."

"Indeed," said Severus stiffly. "Sir."

"Witches like her don't come around every lifetime, you know," continued Slughorn, winking an eye at Severus as he hoisted himself to his feet. "Now… I believe Lily has commandeered Workshop Five for her potion-brewing purposes. Do you need me to show you the way?"

"That won't be necessary," said Severus, inclining his head a little and backing out of the room. "Thank you for your help, sir. I'll give her your regards."

He Vanished the rue on the way to Workshop Five, which was located in a corridor just around the corner from Slughorn's office. When he tried the handle of the workroom, he was surprised to find it locked; as he raised his hand to knock, however, the door swung open.

"What do you want?" asked Lily, her arms crossed. "I don't know if I ever told you, but I'm brewing a highly sensitive potion and don't have time for distractions."

"Brought you something," said Severus. "Can I come in?"

Lily narrowed her eyes at him, but her posture softened. Finally, she nodded, and Severus breathed a small sigh of relief as she beckoned him into the room. A small cauldron sat in the centre of the workshop, bubbling away as several brass instruments hovered around it, taking measurements.

"You've figured out the rue, then," said Severus, eyeing the cauldron.

"Clearly," said Lily. "Why are you here, Sev?"

"Right," said Severus, rummaging in his bag and handing her a pair of gloves. "These are for you."

Lily looked at him sceptically. "Those are my mum's old gloves. Y'know, the useless ones? I've got a dragonhide pair now —"

"Try them on," said Severus. "Trust me."

Lily took the gloves with obvious reluctance. Her eyes flicked to Severus' face, and he gave her what he hoped was an encouraging nod. She sighed and pulled the gloves on. Immediately her eyes widened. "These — you…"

"I reinforced the lining with hide from a Welsh Green," said Severus. "And rubbed down the outsides with Ironbelly oil. They should work as well as any pair of Wizarding gloves now."

Lily flexed her fingers, staring at the gloves. "You didn't have to…"

"You'll have to reapply the oil every six months or so, but I imagine that's not asking too much," continued Severus, as if he hadn't heard. "Of course, if you prefer the pair you already have, I won't be —"

Lily threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. "Thank you," she said into his ear. "I've missed you."

"The last few months have been awful, haven't they?" asked Severus wryly, untangling himself from her.

"That's one way of putting it," said Lily, wiping her eyes and smiling at him. "Want to get out of here? I need to run down to the greenhouses to get some thyme…"

"Of course," said Severus. They stepped into the corridor, and Severus watched Lily lock the door to the workshop with a small bronze key, which she slipped into her bag.

"So what have you been up to, anyway?" asked Lily, swinging her arms through the air as they walked through the Entrance Hall.

"Revising, mostly," said Severus. "Did you have career counselling with McGonagall?"

"Yeah," said Lily, breathing deeply as they stepped out onto the grounds of Hogwarts. "Ah… smells like spring. I suppose you met with old Sluggy, didn't you? Was he ever so helpful?"

"You guessed it," said Severus, smirking a little. "He thinks 'Sliverus' should take up a Potions apprenticeship in Diagon Alley after graduating."

"At least he's aware you're decent at Potions," said Lily. "Even if he can't be arsed to remember your name."

Severus snorted. "Some consolation. What did McGonagall have to say to you?"

"Well, she brought up my marks in Potions, obviously, and in Charms," said Lily as they took the well-trodden path that led to the greenhouses. "She suggested I look into a job with the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, but…" she shuddered dramatically. "I think I'd rather pop my clogs."

"The Reversal Squad wouldn't be that bad," said Severus. "Of course, ninety-nine per cent of the job's Splinching cases, but…"

"That's what I told her," said Lily. "It'd be  _boring_. Plus, I just can't see myself as a Ministry girl. That's when she…" The faintest hint of a blush tinged her cheeks. "She actually suggested I look into Healing."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And, I dunno, Sev, I've been thinking about it, and it might actually be a good fit, don't you think?" She was rushing to get the words out. "I mean, you have to be good at Potions to be a Healer, and there's an aspect of thinking on your feet, not to mention there're all sorts of charms I'd have to learn…"

"You'd be a brilliant Healer," Severus told her, and her blush deepened. "Seriously."

"You really think?"

"I do," said Severus. "If it's something you're interested in, I think you should pursue it."

"Healing would come in useful, too," she said. "You know, if we… if the Wizarding World really ends up at war."

"That's ridiculous," said Severus before he could stop himself. "There's not going to be a war."

"No, right, 'course not," said Lily hurriedly. "I only meant — if there was…"

"There won't be," said Severus. "All that's happening now is a bunch of fanatics are engaging in guerrilla tactics to advance their agenda. That's completely different from a war." Lily nodded vaguely, but her brow was furrowed. Severus cast a sideways glance at her. "I would hope you wouldn't be fighting in a real war, anyway. If there's actually open combat, people will die, you know."

"I know," said Lily softly. "But people are dying anyway.  _Our_  people." She met his eyes and he had to will himself not to flinch. "Besides, I wouldn't be on the front lines as a Healer, would I? I'd be in a more… supportive role."

"I suppose," said Severus, and they fell silent, listening to the far-off shouts of students enjoying the weather.

Lily spoke first, keeping her eyes on the path in front of them. "If there is a war..." She hesitated. "Which side do you think you'd find yourself on?"

"Whichever side you're on, obviously."

That answer apparently wasn't good enough for Lily. "Come on, Sev," she said, jostling him. "Be serious. I know you have friends who…"

"There's not going to be a war," said Severus firmly. "But if there is, you're mad if you think I'd bet against Lily Evans."

Lily smiled, looking relieved. "So I'll be on the sidelines, as a Healer, and you'll be…?"

"Locked in an apothecary somewhere, making Potions for the cause."

"Sluggy would be proud," said Lily, laughing. "Would you be inventing spells, too, d'you think?"

Severus remembered the  _Sectumsempra_  curse he was perfecting and began to feel ill. "Probably."

In the greenhouse, Lily was so excited to finally be at the stage where she needed thyme — or maybe she was simply delighted that she and Severus were getting along, for once — that she flitted from plant to plant, talking loudly and dropping her trimming shears multiple times. As they were leaving, she nearly forgot her bag, causing Severus to dash back into the greenhouse to grab it for her.

After they arrived at the castle, Lily bid him goodbye with a kiss on the cheek and practically skipped to her workroom. It was only after she'd vanished from sight that Severus, hating himself with every fibre of his being, reached into his pocket and pulled out a perfect copy of a small, bronze key.

Success.


	11. Liquid Luck

The last Saturday in May was bright and breezy, perfect weather for the Quidditch final against Ravenclaw. In the days leading up to the match, every second James wasn't on the pitch, he was talking strategy with Parvana Patil and Peregrine Flint, or running plays using the chess pieces he'd Transfigured into miniature Quidditch players. When he slept, he dreamt of flying.

"Captains, if you would," said Madam Hooch. James nodded and stretched out his hand towards Chester Fernsby, the beefy Ravenclaw captain, who pretended to yawn before shaking hands. James' grip tightened, and Fernsby smirked; clearly, he thought this would be an easy win for Ravenclaw. Admittedly, Gryffindor needed to be at least forty points up before catching the Snitch if they wanted to win the Cup, which was a lot to ask, but it wasn't  _impossible_.

"Great, they've started," said Sirius from the commentator's box as Madam Hooch blew her whistle. "Show of hands, who thinks James is gonna be even more of a Quaffle-hog than usual today, in hopes that some third-rate recruiter is watching from the stands?… Just me, then?"

James grinned, urging his broom upwards as the two teams shot into the sky. It was good to hear Sirius' taunts again.

Sirius' voice continued to drift across the stadium as James and his fellow Chasers, set up their first formation. "Looks like Potter's got the Quaffle, surprise surprise, Potter to Peregrine Flint, Flint to Hana Suzuki —  _nice_  avoidance of Ravenclaw there — Suzuki shoots… and — GRYFFINDOR SCORE!"

There was a roar of approval from the stands, and several students shot red and gold sparks into the air. As James followed the other Chasers back towards the Gryffindor side of the pitch, he hopped to his feet on his broom and bowed dramatically.

"Someone needs to tell Potter this is Quidditch, not Muggle surfing," remarked Sirius. "James, mate,  _you didn't even score the goal._  Ooh, speaking of Muggle culture,  _ugly_  hand gesture there from Potter towards the commentator's box… that merits at least a penalty, I'd think… Anyway, Ravenclaw in possession, Fernsby to Archibald Bole — looks like the Ravenclaw Chasers are attempting a Howlet's Wing formation — which falls apart thanks to  _double_  Bludgers from Gryffindor Beaters Marlene McKinnon and Otis Podmore… looks like Bole's nose is bleeding quite badly. That's why I stick to commentating, ladies and gents, can't risk damaging the Galleon-maker… Oh, of all the —"

Sirius swore loudly into the megaphone. "Ravenclaw score, didn't even realize they had possession — Professor McGonagall says if I stuck to describing the match at hand, I wouldn't have this problem, she may have a point — bad luck, Gryffindor…"

Within ten minutes, both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had scored twice more. "They're too good, James," called Parvana from high above him. "Just let me catch the Snitch so we can end on a high note."

"Not a chance," said James, keeping one eye on the Ravenclaw Chasers. "We're taking the Cup if it's the last thing we do."

Parvana reached up to adjust her plait. "Got something to prove, do you?"

"Trust me," said James. "Don't you dare touch the Snitch till we're forty points up."

Parvana looked like she wanted to argue, but she dipped her head in response before veering away to continue her circle of the pitch.

"Score's thirty-thirty, Gryffindor in possession," said Sirius. "Suzuki to Potter — Usman Shafiq sending a  _nasty_  Bludger Potter's way, and — Oh, that's not good…"

James had swerved at exactly the wrong moment, and the Bludger smashed directly into his chest, knocking the air from his lungs. The force of the blow hurtled him backwards, nearly off his broom, and the Quaffle slipped from his fingers.

Madam Hooch's tinny whistle sounded from far below him. "Ravenclaw foul!"

"You alright, James?" asked Hana Suzuki as they lined up for the penalty shot.

James was wheezing for breath. "Ask me again in a minute." He turned the Quaffle over in his hands as he watched Sylvia Bellchant, the Ravenclaw Keeper, hover in front of the goalposts. With a grunt of pain, he hefted the Quaffle and flung it towards the hoop on the far right. Bellchant dove, but she wasn't fast enough, and the Quaffle soared through the hoop.

"That's better," said James, rubbing his smarting chest. "Ravenclaw's Chasers are good, but Bellchant can't defend worth dung."

"New strategy, then?" asked Peregrine. "Sacrifice our bodies for penalty shots?"

James nodded. "Exactly."

Hana Suzuki got the next shot on goal after she was mowed down by Ravenclaw's Chasers as they sped towards the Gryffindor hoops.

"No good, Ravenclaw!" Sirius cried gleefully, shaking his head. "Can't make a formation when the other team are in the way. Basic physics — that's the Muggle theory of matter, for those who don't know…"

"I'm glad you're well-prepared for you Muggle Studies O.W.L., Black," said Professor McGonagall over the megaphone, "but could you  _please_  focus on the match?"

"News flash, everybody, Professor McGonagall is not a fan of Muggles," said Sirius loudly into the megaphone. "You heard it here first — Okay, okay, sorry Professor... Ravenclaw in possession, Bole passes to —  _ouch_ , the Quaffle hits Gryffindor Beater Podmore in an unfortunate spot… not likely to do any permanent damage, though — you'd want a Bludger for that, a Quaffle's the wrong ball… excuse the pun, Podmore…"

"Now, Parvana!" called James after Peregrine Flint managed to fall dramatically off his broom after being jostled by Fernsby, earning Ravenclaw their fourth foul and Gryffindor their fourth penalty shot.

"Eighty-forty, Gryffindor in the lead," said Sirius from the commentator's box. "The match could be either team's to win, now — Ravenclaw in possession, Fernsby and Bole doing something weird with their brooms… Shafiq joins them, bit funny the way he's holding his Beater's bat — ooh, they've made the Dragon's Egg formation, that's going to be tricky for Gryffindor to break… Fernsby narrowly avoids a Bludger from McKinnon, they're closing in on the goal now… Wait a moment, MERLIN'S BADLY BLEEDING —"

There was a dull thump as Professor McGonagall put her hand over the megaphone, muffling whatever Sirius was about to say next.

"Parvana Patil of Gryffindor has gone into a steep dive," said Professor McGonagall over the megaphone, a slight tremble in her voice betraying her excitement. "Ravenclaw nearly at the hoops now —"

"PATIL'S SEEN THE SNITCH!" screamed Sirius, drowning out Professor McGonagall.

James' heart leapt into his throat as Parvana dove, arm outstretched, towards the ground. She cut in front of the Ravenclaw Chasers, who slammed into her, turning her nosedive into a tumble as she grappled with her broom.

The Snitch was skimming across the grass of the Quidditch pitch now. Parvana was still in a freefall, barely ten feet from the ground. She flipped upside-down on her broom, hanging by her knees as she reached both arms towards the Snitch —

"SHE'S GOING TO CRASH!" yelled Sirius. "MERLIN, PATIL, HANG IN THERE!"

Parvana uncrossed her legs and plummeted off her broom. She somersaulted over the grass once, twice, before crumpling in a heap on the ground. The stadium was silent, watching her limp form.

Slowly, she raised one arm above her head, a glint of gold between her fingers.

"SHE'S GOT IT!" screamed Sirius, and an enormous roar went up from the stands. "FINAL SCORE TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTY TO FORTY — GRYFFINDOR WINS THE CUP!"

Madam Hooch blew her whistle three times, signalling the end of the match, and James nudged his broom towards the ground. Marlene and Otis had already landed and were helping Parvana to her feet.

"Alright, Patil?" called James, placing a hand on her head. Her neat plait had come undone in several places from her dive.

"Never better," she replied, flashing him a triumphant grin.

James plucked the Snitch from Parvana's hands and pocketed it before she could protest. "If Madam Hooch asks, tell her the Snitch got away from you in all the excitement."

Parvana grinned. "We're keeping it forever, aren't we?"

"'Course we are," said James, rolling the ball between his fingers. "Gryffindor wins the Cup for the first time in over a decade? This Snitch is part of  _history_."

After showering in the changing room, James joined the rest of his teammates in a triumphant parade back to the castle, holding the Cup high over their heads. As they reached the first floor landing, he paused.

"You lot go on, I'll catch you up," James said, trying to shrug sheepishly.

"Off to do the dirty with the Cup, eh?" said Peregrine, laughing and slapping him on the back. "Your deepest fantasy finally realized…"

"Piss off, Flint," said James, but he was smiling. His teammates continued up the stairs, Otis and Marlene carrying Parvana above their heads, and James ducked around the corner, towards Professor McGonagall's office.

He knocked on the door, but there was no answer; McGonagall must have been with the other teachers, doing whatever they did after a Quidditch match. Rubbing Gryffindor's win in Professor Slughorn's face, he hoped.

The door to the office was locked, but James had expected that. He pulled his wand out of his robes and pointed it at the Cup.

" _Alliago_ ," he muttered, and the Cup's form began to melt as it turned into a sheet of parchment. He slid the parchment under the door and, with another flourish of his wand, Untransfigured it back into a trophy.

Next came the hard part. James waved his wand blindly, hoping to send it in the direction of Professor McGonagall's desk. A series of loud crashes sounded from the office, accompanied by the sound of shattering glass. In the end, he was fairly certain the Cup was sitting comfortably in the display case behind her desk, although he was fairly certain he'd broken the case's glass front in the process.

James pulled a quill and a scrap of parchment from his bag and scribbled a brief note, which he slid under the door.

_Professor McGonagall,_

_Found this old Cup lying around and thought you might like to have it._

_\- JP_

_P.S. Wild storm we had the other day, eh?_

The common room was completely empty by the time James got back to Gryffindor tower, save for Remus' battered old trunk, was lying rather conspicuously in front of the fireplace. James knelt beside the trunk and flipped the latches, humming to himself.

As he opened the lid, he heard shouts and whistles coming from inside, accompanied by loud music. He climbed into the trunk and straightened up, grinning. On the inside, the trunk was the size of a ballroom, covered from floor to ceiling in red and gold hangings and filled near to bursting with what looked like the entirety of Gryffindor house.

"The man of the hour!" cried Sirius, bounding forward and pressing a goblet full of dark red liquid into his hand. He swept his arms out, indicating the room. "What do you think? Impressive, eh?"

"Remind me to never underestimate your spellwork," said James. He took a long swig from the goblet. The drink must have been one of Sirius' concoctions; immediately after he swallowed, scarlet-coloured steam began to pour from his ears. "I didn't realize Undetectable Expansion Charms could make things quite so… expansive."

"Well, not normally," said Sirius. "We had to finagle it a bit, which had the unfortunate side-effect of making the trunk a bit… magically unstable."

"No duelling, in other words," said Remus, appearing at James' side and holding out a hand. "Your wand, please, Sirius."

James frowned. "You're confiscating our wands?"

"Nah," said Remus with a grin. "Just Mr Magically-Unstable over here. He's nearly blown us all up twice already."

"I maintain that exploding the punch bowl was an accident and doesn't count," said Sirius, but he shoved his wand at Remus anyway and promptly skipped onto the dance floor.

"You two are getting on well, then, aren't you?" asked James, watching Remus' eyes track Sirius in the crowd. "If you're back to pushing the limits of spellcasting together…"

Remus lifted a shoulder. "He said he was sorry. Can't ask for more than that, can I?"

"Sure, but 'sorry' doesn't mean everything goes back to normal."

"James," said Remus, sounding pained. "He's your best mate."

"I mean, yeah, but that doesn't — you didn't have to…"

Sirius was dancing unselfconsciously with Mary Macdonald. His movements were large and exuberant, yet somehow still graceful. Remus watched them, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I've chosen to believe he means well," he said finally. "For the good of us all." James opened his mouth to protest, but Remus jerked his head towards the punch bowl at the edge of the room. "Come on. Enough mopey Moony. Let's celebrate your victory."

* * *

Bella called for a special ritual to be held during the first week of O.W.L.s. She didn't give any details, only saying they'd meet at midnight on Monday, but Severus knew what was about to happen; this was when Lucius Malfoy would dose them with Veritaserum.

Severus could barely keep his eyes open after taking both the theory and practical portions of his Charms O.W.L. Avery, for his part, appeared to be staying awake through sheer anxiety, muttering to himself when he thought nobody was listening. Mulciber didn't show any signs of fatigue at all.

As they were leaving the common room for Dungeon Thirteen, Severus pretended to have forgotten his wand and dashed back to the dormitory. Once he was safely hidden behind the curtains of his bed, he pulled a small vial filled with golden liquid out from under his pillow. As soon as Severus looked at it, his stomach twisted, and he felt like he'd swallowed a rock.

He'd stolen Lily's Felix Felicis while she was taking the Charms practical. As he'd snuck down to the potions workrooms, he had debated Disillusioning himself, but Professor Slughorn had been nowhere in sight. He'd slipped in and out of Workshop Five using the little bronze key he'd copied the previous week, and nobody had been any the wiser.

He unstoppered the vial, tipping his head back and letting a couple of drops slide down his throat. After a moment, a feeling of warmth began to grow inside of him. It was if he'd swallowed a candle. His guts untwisted themselves as his guilt vanished and a sense of wellbeing settled over him. He had been foolish to worry about the Veritaserum, truly… His mental defences were strong, nearly as strong as Bella's. Nobody would suspect a thing.

No longer anxious about his Induction, Severus stowed the empty vial under his pillow and rejoined his fellow Intents, who were waiting for him in the corridor.

Inside Dungeon Thirteen, Lucius Malfoy was lounging in a high-backed white chair at the head of a table that was inlaid with gold. In front of him were seven crystal glasses filled with clear liquid, and Bella sat in the chair at his side.

Bella smiled as the Intents filed in. "Sit," she said grandly, gesturing towards the empty chairs at the table. The Intents sat, shooting each other nervous glances.

"Sev," hissed Avery from the corner of his mouth, his eyes on the glasses. "Is that — are they —"

Severus inclined his head a fraction, and a whimper escaped Avery's throat. Severus locked eyes with Bella, who was draped in so many layers of silver silk that it looked as if she were part Veela. She narrowed her eyes, and he thought he felt a little nudge at the edge of his consciousness. He lifted his chin a bit, daring her to probe deeper even as he cleared his mind of all emotion and memory. _Keep looking. You will find nothing here._

Bella blinked and settled back in her chair, a small smile playing around her lips. She looked obediently towards Lucius, who nodded in response and leaned forward, his hands steepled in front of him.

"Tonight is a special night," said Lucius, his eyes sweeping the table. "I count myself fortunate to be in attendance, as this is my favourite of all the Rituals of Intention."

"Mine as well," said Bella. "Some of you may have already guessed, from the potion on the table — tonight we will be drinking Veritaserum."

"We, Bella?" asked Evan Rosier, his eyes darting towards Lucius as if he was unsure whether he was allowed to speak.

Bella winked at him. "Of course. Don't I partake in every ritual, as your mentor? This will be no exception."

Mulciber and Avery looked impressed, but Severus knew better. Bella was an accomplished Occlumens, and had already been exposed to Veritaserum when she was an Intent; she was not Truth Potion-naive like the rest of the Intents. Taking Veritaserum would hardly leave her vulnerable. Her willingness to participate made a good show, though, he supposed.

"It is time, I believe," said Lucius, nodding at the potions. "Let us see what you would rather hide."

Bella smiled beatifically at the Intents, raising her own glass in a toast before downing its contents. The Intents followed suit, though Avery looked distastefully at his vial before swallowing the potion.

Severus put his glass carefully to his lips and took a sip. The Veritaserum had no smell, no taste; it could have been water. In fact, after he had drunk the entire glass, he felt no different than he had a minute before. He raised his glass to eye level, examining the way the crystals caught the light. Was it possible there had been a mistake? Could his glass actually have been full of water?

_Caution,_  warned a voice in the back of Severus' mind.  _Things are not as they appear._  Severus nodded to himself, agreeing with the voice, and his chest swelled with pride. He was so clever, he always had been. He only needed to trust himself.

"That's better," breathed Bella, her eyelids fluttering open as she swallowed the last of the liquid in her glass. She gave the Intents a benevolent smile, flashing every one of her square teeth at them. "I will go first, I think, to show how this is done. If you are in agreement, Lucius?"

"I am," said Lucius, inclining his head. "Bella, if you would tell me, what form does your Boggart take?"

_My father_ , thought Severus. The words were on the tip of his tongue, and he had to fight the urge to blurt them out.  _It's Bella's turn,_  he reminded himself, but that didn't satisfy him; he needed to speak, he craved it. Perhaps Veritaserum had been in his glass after all.

Bella hummed, tilting her head. "My Boggart takes the form of a Muggle with a torch who wants to burn me alive."

"Enlightening," said Lucius. Privately, Severus thought it was awfully coincidental that Bella's Boggart doubled as a demonstration of her devotion to the cause.

"My turn, then," said Bella, scanning the Intents. Avery had his hands clapped over his mouth to prevent himself from speaking. "Rabastan?"

Rabastan Lestrange's head snapped up, an eager look in his angled eyes. "Yes, Bella?"

"Tell me, Rabastan," purred Bella, "who in this room do you hate the most?"

"I hate you, Bella," said Lestrange, though his eyes seemed to widen in surprise at the words that were tumbling out his mouth. "There're lots of reasons. My brother courts you, and you say that you love him, but I know he's not the only one you're seeing. And you make us — the Intents — hurt each other. We should be hurting other people, not ourselves. It's wrong."

"Oh, Rabastan," said Bella, smiling widely. "You're giving away secrets that are not your own. Don't worry — I'm not angry. But I think I will refrain from speaking on my relationship with your brother for now. Does it feel good to speak the truth?"

"It does," said Lestrange, though his brow was still furrowed.

"It does," agreed Bella. "Now, do you know why I have you practice on each other, Rabastan? It is so you don't embarrass me when the Dark Lord gives you unpleasant tasks to perform. Our rituals teach obedience, and discipline, and trust. Have any of you come to permanent harm under my guidance?"

"No, Bella," said Lestrange, looking somewhat ashamed now.

"So will it be when you swear allegiance to the Dark Lord. Obey and trust, and no harm will come to any of you." Bella leaned back in her chair and arranged her silver robes, looking quite pleased with herself. "Aren't you glad we had this talk, Rabastan? Do you have more confidence in my leadership?"

"I do," breathed Lestrange. "Now I think I hate Malfoy the most. That is —" His entire face flushed scarlet. "Not that — I don't know him well enough to —"

Bella's laugh was high and sharp. Beside her, Lucius smiled graciously. "You've got a little problem with authority figures, don't you, Rabastan?" he asked. "From what I know of your father, it runs in the family. No matter — I am not offended. Now then, which of you would like to go next?"

"Me," said Avery at once. He nearly bouncing up and down with eagerness, though Severus noticed that he also looked vaguely confused, as if he wasn't quite sure why he was volunteering himself.

Lestrange smiled, seeming relieved that he was no longer the centre of attention. "Right, then, Edmund," he said. "Erm… what did you think about the last time you, er, polished your wand?"

Avery's ears turned red, and Mulciber snickered. Severus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. For all Bella's talk, Lestrange had a point; most of these rituals were humiliating, even if they were designed to bond the Intents further.

Severus was so lost in thought that he missed Avery's answer. From the way Mulciber and Wilkes shifted their chairs away from Avery, though, he had a good guess as to what Avery might have said.

"Interesting," said Bella, her eyes sparkling. "So you like to think about other people's wands. Do you feel better, letting us know your secret?"

Avery was biting his lip in an effort to keep himself from responding. He was silent for nearly ten seconds, and a trickle of blood ran down the corner of his mouth. Finally, he spoke. "No. There's a reason I was keeping that to myself."

"But if we don't know the secrets you hide, how will we be able to protect you as Primaries and Secondaries?" asked Bella, as if she were talking to a child. "It wouldn't do for us to be caught off guard. That's how Death Eaters get compromised. You don't want to be compromised, do you, Edmund?"

Avery shrugged, not meeting Bella's eyes. "No."

"It's good that you've shared," said Lucius. "This is information that your brothers need to know. And not to worry; no Death Eater will raise an eyebrow at your" — he coughed delicately — " _affinities_ , so long as they don't extend to Muggles. Now, who would you like to question?"

"Mulciber, I guess," said Avery. He lifted a trembling hand to his mouth to wipe away the blood there. He looked like he was about to cry, but he seemed unable to stop himself from turning towards Mulciber. "Augustus, have you ever… I mean, would you be interested in… We spend a lot of time together, and…"

"No," said Mulciber at once, and Wilkes laughed. "Absolutely not."

If Severus hadn't been focused on emptying his mind of emotion, he would have felt sorry for Avery, who looked as if he wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.

"On the same topic, though, I have a question for Severus," said Mulciber. Severus took a slow breath through his nostrils, willing himself not to react. He had known this was coming, whether from Mulciber or Bella or another Intent. There was no escaping it.

_Calm_ , said the voice at the back of his empty mind. He had nothing to hide. He was detached from emotion, from memory, from self.

"So,  _Sev_ ," said Mulciber, leaning forward in his chair. There was a vicious glint in his icy blue eyes. "Care to tell us about Lily Evans? See, I don't know if I can trust a brother who finds Mudbloods attractive."

Severus' lip curled, though inside he felt like jumping for joy. Stupid, stupid, Mulciber. Didn't he know Truth Potions needed specificity to be effective?

"Lily Evans," he said, dragging the words out, waiting to see what memories rose to the forefront of his mind. Nothing. "We met in Potions class first year." Not a lie; they  _had_  met in Potions class, and other places besides. "We shared an interest in the subject. In the years that followed, our friendship persisted, even as the political climate grew considerably more… hostile."

Lucius smirked at that, and Bella giggled a little, giving Severus a moment to collect himself. He knew that Felix Felicis was the only reason his heart wasn't beating out of his chest. "Recently, though," he said, "our relationship has been… tense. You may find it hard to believe, but she has a certain distaste for the Dark Arts."

"Get to the point," growled Mulciber. "Who is Lily Evans to you?"

Severus fixed his eyes not on Mulciber, but on Lucius, who was listening attentively, head cocked to one side. "Lily Evans is my Potions partner and a Mudblood," he said flatly. "She is someone of little consequence."

Severus paused, Felix Felicis thrumming through his blood. He felt elated and slightly out of breath, like he'd just run a marathon. He examined the contents of his mind, but no thoughts of Lily rose to contradict what he'd just said.

Lucius nodded slowly. Beside him, Bella caught sight of Mulciber's expression and laughed.

"Oh, Augustus, no need to look so disappointed!" she said. "We can't all be harbouring secrets as juicy as Edmund's. Severus, who do you have a question for?"

"Lucius," said Severus immediately.

Lucius Malfoy blinked. "I haven't taken Veritaserum tonight, Severus."

"As is your right," said Severus, letting Felix Felicis guide his speech. "Nevertheless, I hope you will answer me honestly. Who here do you think has the most potential?"

He held his breath, waiting for a response. A slow smile stretched across Lucius' thin face. "Excellent question," he said. "I admire your nerve. And I must say — every time we interact, I find myself more and more impressed by you, Severus. Does that suffice for an answer?"

Severus inclined his head, a slight smirk across his lips as he leaned back in his chair. He'd done it. He'd actually done it.

There was another small nudge at the back of his mind. He couldn't tell whether it was coming from Bella, or one of the potions he'd taken that night, or, God forbid, his own conscience — if he even still had one.  _That's right, you've done it. Now to pay the cost._

* * *

Something was wrong with her potion. Lily knew it as soon as she let herself into Workroom Five, an hour before her Potions O.W.L. was due to start. There was no movement to the liquid, no burbling golden drops, and the colour had turned a deep bronze.

The protective charms on her Felix Felicis had been activated, then. She'd set them to overheat the cauldron if anyone other than her disturbed the surface of the potion. It would have taken less than fifteen seconds for the potion to spoil.

There was only one conclusion. Someone had attempted to steal her Felix Felicis, and she knew exactly who it had been.

She went to Professor Slughorn immediately, to notify him that there'd been a breach in the protective enchantments surrounding her workroom. The expression on his face when he peered into her cauldron confirmed things for her, and it was all she could do not to cry. An entire year of work, ruined. Sabotaged.

Stolen.

She swore up and down to Professor Slughorn that she had no idea who might have tampered with her potion, despite wondering dully why she was even bothering to protect Severus anymore. He'd shown her all year who he was, and now the evidence was undeniable. She was so naive. So stupid.

In the end, she managed to convince Professor Slughorn that someone must have thought it funny to ruin her potion as an anti-Muggle-born prank; she left out the bit about being certain at least a thimbleful of Felix had been stolen. No use upsetting Professor Slughorn further, not when she knew who the perpetrator was. Not when she could enact a vengeance sweeter than any detention he could give.

It was in this mindset that she entered Dungeon One, which had been magically expanded to accommodate all the fifth years at Hogwarts. Severus was seated in one of the upper tiers, next to Mulciber; interestingly, Avery was a couple of rows down, sitting on his own.

"Is this seat taken?" she asked, and Severus looked up, startled. His heavy brow furrowed as his black eyes searched her own. Looking, she was sure, for a sign that she was angry. That she knew what he did.

"Go ahead," said Severus at last, still regarding her warily.

She smiled sweetly at him in response, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks, Sev."

Their examiner was a man with greying hair who was so tall and thin that he looked like a ghostly scarecrow. He waved his wand slowly through the air, and examination booklets appeared on each desk, along with a blank scroll of parchment.

"Good luck, then," said Lily brightly to Severus as the examiner turned over the large hourglass that sat on the central podium. "I'm sure you'll do well — you're brilliant at Potions."

"Thanks," said Severus. He was still eyeing her as though at any moment she would turn into a chimaera and begin wreaking havoc on the classroom. "You, too."

Theory of Potions was easier than Lily had expected, which was a good thing, seeing as she was more than a little distracted by sitting so close to Severus. She gritted her teeth at the sound of his quill scratching on his parchment. She wanted nothing more than to upend his table and throw him bodily across the room. Maybe she really was part chimaera.

Something knocked against her hand, startling her, and she looked down. Her inkwell was rattling violently, threatening to spill its contents across her parchment. She took several deep breaths, and the inkwell calmed down. There was no use in creating a scene here with accidental magic; it was better to be patient. She would have her revenge.

Her moment came that afternoon, during the practical portion of their Potions O.W.L. "Oh, well done, well done," said the examiner, bending slowly over her cauldron and wafting the fumes towards his pointed nose. "A beautifully brewed Alihotsy Draught… and do I smell citrus?"

"Yes, sir," said Lily, giving her potion one last stir. "I add limewort to balance the side-effects from the moondew, which causes flushing in a minority of wizards who take the Draught."

"Splendid improvisation," said the examiner. "I daresay you've got quite a future in Potions ahead of you, Miss…?"

"Evans," said Lily. She pretended not to notice the slight raise of the examiner's eyebrows at her Muggle surname. "And actually, sir, I've been working on an independent study this year, brewing… well, can I show you?"

She smiled brightly up at the examiner, who chuckled and nodded, allowing Lily to reach into her bag. At the desk beside her, Severus stiffened.

"Let me see…" Lily said, digging around in her bag. "Got it!"

She pulled the little vial out of her bag and held it up so it caught the light. Inside the vial, her ruined potion was the colour of rotting autumn leaves. "Felix Felicis," she said with relish. Beside her, Severus was as still as if he had been Petrified, one hand stretched over his cauldron.

"If I may…" said the examiner, holding out his hand. Lily nodded and dropped the vial into his palm, smiling so broadly that her cheeks hurt.

"This… That is…" said the examiner, making a humming noise. "I suppose you added the rue during the new moon?"

"Oh, always, sir," said Lily. "What do you think? It's a perfect specimen if I do say so myself."

"And you used a female Ashwinder egg, not that of a male?"

"Of course," said Lily. "I followed the instructions exactly. Would you like to try a drop? Not too much, though, or you might not feel like marking our exams." She giggled a little.

"Ah… though tempting, I'm afraid I must decline," said the examiner. He set the vial delicately down on her table, as though afraid it would explode.

"Then I'll have to be the one to try it," said Lily, and the examiner's indulgent smile changed to a look of horror.

"Lily…" said Severus at last, and she had to fight to keep the grin plastered on her face.

"This is exciting, isn't it, Sev?" babbled Lily, breaking the seal on the vial with her thumb. "I've heard it's an amazing feeling, taking Felix…"

"Miss Evans," said the examiner weakly, "I don't know how to tell you this, but that sample… It might be for the best that we let it be…"

"Oh, no, I couldn't do that," said Lily, widening her eyes. "I've worked so hard all year — I need to know how it came out! Felix is a tricky potion, you know, disastrous effects when improperly brewed…" She winked at the astonished examiner before raising the vial to her lips.

"Lily," said Severus urgently. Beside him, Mulciber was gazing at her like a cat watching a mouse. "Don't. Clearly now's a bad time —"

"Don't be jealous, Sev," said Lily. "It's not a good look on you."

"You ought to test it on an animal, to make sure it's safe," said Severus, his voice rising. "Or a couple of willing first years, or — or give it here, and I'll —"

"Thanks but no thanks," said Lily, locking eyes with him. "I made this potion, and I know I followed the steps correctly, so I have nothing to be afraid of, right?"

Severus stared at her, mouth ajar. She smiled back at him. She hoped her performance was good enough, that Severus couldn't see the heartbreak that lurked just underneath. Silly Severus. He was so predictable. He had expected her to rage at him, but that wouldn't be revenge enough for her this time. He hated himself; he would feel he deserved any words she hurled at him.

So Lily would hurt herself instead, and it would be his fault for tampering with her potion, and that would twist the knife deeper than any insults she could yell.

She winked at him. Then, before either Severus or the examiner could stop her, she swallowed the contents of the vial.

She ended up spending two days in the hospital wing while Madam Pomfrey regrew her spleen, and missed both her Arithmancy and History of Magic O.W.L.s as a result. Luckily, Professor McGonagall assured her that due to the extenuating circumstances of having nearly blown herself up, she would be allowed to retake the O.W.L.s she had missed during the second week of examinations.

When she emerged from the infirmary on Thursday, it was just in time for dinner in the Great Hall. She sat between Mary and Marlene, who nearly suffocated her in a hug. Towards the end of dinner, she finally glanced over at the Slytherin table. She met Severus' dark eyes immediately. He looked awful; his stringy hair hung in clumps about his face and he was paler than ever. Lily stared at him cooly, daring him to acknowledge her. He looked away in response.

Lily spent the rest of the evening in the company of her friends, who fussed appropriately over her. Marlene, of course, had realized at once what had happened, and in the week that followed, a rumour spread through Gryffindor House that Severus had tampered with Lily's potion.

When curious students asked if this was true, Lily would merely nod before returning to her Arithmancy notes. She wasn't interested in spreading gossip, but she had no problem letting people know the truth.

There was a saying in the Muggle world, after all, that the truth would set you free.

* * *

James Potter came for Severus after their Defence O.W.L., like Severus knew he would. The rumour that he, Severus, had ruined Lily's potion had spread through the school like wildfire, even reaching the ears of his fellow Intents, who by and large had congratulated him on successfully 'putting a Mudblood in her place'. It was too much to hope that the rumour had bypassed James and his friends.

They found him out on the grounds of Hogwarts, behind a cluster of bushes at the edge of the lake.

Even though Severus had been expecting an attack, James managed to Disarm him and Sirius hit him with an Impediment Jinx before he managed to get a curse of his own off. A small group of students noticed the commotion and clustered around to watch.  _Come to see the show_ , Severus thought nastily.

"You're so predictable it's pathetic," spat Severus, struggling uselessly against the jinx as James and Sirius loomed over him. "Hexing me when I'm alone, surrounded by sycophants who can back you up… your mother must be so  _proud_  to have a son like you."

James levelled his wand at Severus' head. "Leave my mother out of this, Snape."

"I must not have made myself clear," sneered Severus. "I was speaking to Black. You're growing up to be quite the mama's boy, aren't you?" he asked, addressing Sirius, whose grip on his wand tightened. "Cruel streak a mile wide. If I were you, I'd try the Sorting Hat on again, now that you've grown up to be a proper Black —"

Sirius cracked his wand like a whip, teeth bared. Severus felt a searing pain along his back, and he collapsed into the grass.

"My... point... exactly," said Severus through gritted teeth, twitching as he fought to stand up. "Duel me like a wizard and we'll see who wins, you inbred waste of space.  _Ventrum mortis. Crus crura_  — let me  _up_ , you blood traitor.  _Mutatum carnifero_..."

As James had Disarmed him, nothing happened.

"Wash out your mouth," said James coldly. He stepped in front of Sirius, who looked murderous. " _Scourgify_!"

Severus gagged; soap bubbles were rising up his throat and pouring out of his mouth. His hand flew to his throat as he struggled to breathe. Above him, James raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"Leave him ALONE!"

Severus' heart stopped.  _Lily_. It couldn't be. Surely she had gotten the message after he'd betrayed her, surely she knew to stay away, that trying to save their friendship was futile…

"All right, Evans?" said James.

Lily glared at James. "Leave him  _alone_. What happened is between me and him. I don't need you intervening on my behalf, like some knight in shining armour…"

"Rest easy, Evans," said Sirius. "I can't speak for James here, but  _I'm_  acting on motives entirely my own. You don't factor into it."

"Is that right?" asked Lily, hands on her hips. "What's he done to you, then?"

"Well," said James, pretending to be thinking, "for us it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean. . . ."

Some of the onlookers laughed, and Severus noticed that Mulciber, Lestrange and Bella were watching from a distance. Lestrange's wand was half-raised, as if he wanted to intervene, but Bella's hand rested on his arm, stilling him. She met Severus' eyes and tilted her head, a smile playing around her lips.

Severus cursed inwardly. He'd denounced Lily under Veritaserum, yet she was coming to his rescue. He had to get rid of her somehow — he couldn't afford for the Intents to guess his true feelings.

James and Lily were arguing; they had seemingly forgotten about Severus, allowing him to crawl towards his wand. His fingers closed around the walnut wand, and he pointed it at James, who was still fixated on Lily.  _Sectum_ , he thought, aiming at James' face.

There was a flash of light and James stumbled as the skin of his cheek split open, blood speckling his robes and the grass at his feet. Immediately, James turned, and Severus felt the world around him spin as he was hoisted upside-down into the air.  _My own hex,_  he thought bitterly, fighting to keep his robes covering his pants.  _The bastard hits me with my own hex —_

"Let him down," said Lily, but she didn't look upset at all. Severus felt like he was going to vomit, and he wasn't sure if it was from being hung upside-down in the air or from shame. That Lily, of all people, would see him like this, humiliated —

No sooner had Severus collapsed onto the ground than Sirius hit him with another curse. He froze, cheek pressed into the dirt, unable to move except for his eyes.

Bella, Mulciber and Lestrange had come closer and were standing at the edge of the crowd. Bella's hand had drifted casually towards her side, hovering over her wand, but she shook her head slightly when Severus met her eyes, begging her silently to intervene. She pointed her chin towards Lily, who had begun to argue with James again, and the implication was clear.  _Her or us? We can't both be your saviour._

"Take the curse off him!" demanded Lily, who looked like she was ready to pull her own wand out.

James hesitated; then he sighed and pointed his wand at Severus. " _Finite_."

Severus felt the jinx lift. He got unsteadily to his feet and cast an imploring glance at Bella, but she widened her eyes innocently and didn't move. Her voice from months ago rose to the forefront of Severus' mind. He could hear her so clearly it was as if she had used Legilimency.  _Honestly, you will have to choose at some point, but it will be easy._

He should have known that she had been lying to him. It was never going to be easy.

"That's better, isn't it?" James asked Severus, eyeing him with distaste. "You're lucky Evans was here to save you, Snivellus —"

All the rage and humiliation of that afternoon welled up in Severus, and the words poured out of him unbidden. "I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

There was a beat. A couple of the students whispered to each other, and James raised an eyebrow. Behind him, Bella was smiling as she drew her wand.

Lily was staring at Severus as if she was seeing him for the first time. "Fine. I won't bother in future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you,  _Snivellus_."

"Apologize to Evans!" shouted James, advancing on Severus. "After all you've put her through, you  _dare_  —"

Lily whirled on James, fury blazing in her emerald eyes. "I don't want you to make him apologize! You're as bad as he is!"

"What? I'd NEVER call you a — you-know-what!"

"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch  _you didn't even catch_ , hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can — I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK." She turned on her heel and stormed away without so much as a glance at Severus.

Mulciber put a hand on Severus' shoulder, but before they could slip away, there was another flash of light. The contents of Severus' stomach rushed into his throat as he flipped upside-down in the air.

"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?" James asked the crowd. Sirius laughed and advanced on Severus, wand raised —

"That's quite enough, dear cousin," said Bella smoothly, stepping forward and levelling her wand at his chest. "I think you've had your fun for today." Mulciber and Lestrange flanked her, wands drawn.

James eyed them warily. He jerked his wand upwards and Severus fell to the ground. "Fine," he said shortly. "Come on, Pad —"

But Sirius was nose-to-nose with Bella now. "I'm not afraid of you," he growled.

Bella laughed. "That's because you're stupid." Before Sirius could react, she flicked her wand and there was a boom like a cannon. Sirius went flying backwards, knocking students out of the way. There was a crunch as he hit a tree and crumpled into a senseless heap.

Bella turned her wand on James. "No more bullying," she said lightly. "You won't much like what happens to Sirius if you do."

James regarded her for a moment before giving a curt nod.

"Let's go," said Bella, putting an arm around Severus and directing him towards the castle. "We'll have a nice dinner in Dungeon Thirteen. We'll celebrate."

"Celebrate what?" said Severus, his mind still on Lily. Salazar's fangs, she'd seen his  _pants_  — and he'd called her a —

"You, Sev," said Bella, drawing him closer. "Celebrating you. You chose us. Like I always knew you would."


	12. The Year in Review

Lily Evans was angry.

She was so angry she didn't bother studying for her Arithmancy O.W.L. ("I could do Applied Numerology in my sleep," she told a worried Mary), and she hardly cared when she left large swathes of parchment blank during her History of Magic O.W.L. It was all so ridiculous — why was she being tested on her knowledge of the intricacies of goblin warfare when not a single question so much as alluded to the centuries of anti-Muggle sentiment among pure-blood communities?

She was angry with wizarding Britain and its nearsightedness. She was angry that the world of magic and wonder she had been promised when she was eleven didn't actually exist. Being a Muggle-born witch didn't make her special; it made her a second-class citizen.

Lily was angry about all of these things. Most of all, though, she was angry with herself.

"I've been an idiot," she said. She was sitting cross-legged in bed with Marlene and Parvana. Marlene had brought cheese sandwiches up from the kitchens for lunch.

"I mean," said Marlene, talking around a chunk of sandwich. "You're gonna have to qualify that statement."

Lily gaped at her. "Are you saying I really have been an idiot?"

"I know it's not what you want to hear," said Marlene, "but Severus is scum. And he's been that way for ages. He took advantage of you, over and over. And because you have a kind heart, you kept forgiving him."

"Thanks a lot," said Lily drily. "I know I was being stupid, it's just — he was my  _best friend_. Imagine Mary started turning into a Death Eater. What would you do?"

"Probably the same thing you did," said Marlene. "Give her too many chances 'til she broke my heart. I'm not judging you. I get it."

Parvana nodded, but her brow was furrowed. "I do think you shouldn't have taken your Felix Felicis to get back at him," she said quietly.

"Come off it," said Marlene immediately. "That was  _brilliant_. You should have seen the look on Snivellus' face after you blew up half the dungeon, Lil."

Parvana frowned. "She could have been seriously hurt though. She  _was_ seriously hurt. How is that revenge?"

"I knew what I was doing," said Lily defensively. "It was my potion. I knew the risk I was taking."

"Yeah," said Marlene. "Lil knew Madam Pomfrey'd set her right."

"Even so," said Parvana. She took a bite of sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. "You shouldn't hurt yourself to get back at someone else."

"Says the girl who nearly killed herself on the Quidditch pitch just so Ravenclaw wouldn't win the Cup," Lily teased. Parvana's eyes widened, but Lily grinned at her. After a moment, Parvana smiled back.

"I will say this," added Marlene. "Lil, your fingernail clippings are worth more than every bone in Snivellus' body."

"More than those smelly robes he wears, too," said Lily. She tried to sound nonchalant, but as soon as the words left her mouth she could feel herself flushing.

"The bright side — if there is one — is you know where Snape stands now," said Parvana. "Think of how long things could have dragged on if he were a better liar. At least you can go home for the summer and get some space from him."

Lily groaned and flopped back onto the bed. "We're from the same town, Parvana. He's practically my neighbour."

Parvana started to respond, but there was a bang as the door of the dormitory burst open, cutting her off. Mary strode in, carrying a large purple-and-white bouquet. "We have a situation," she announced, dropping the flowers on Lily's bed.

"I'll say," said Marlene, twirling a violet hyacinth sceptically between her fingers. "Are these from James, or —"

"Worse," said Mary. She plucked Marlene's sandwich off the bed and took a bite. "And there's more where that came from. A certain Slytherin named, quote, Snivellus Snake, end quote, is currently standing outside Gryffindor Tower, wanting to —"

Marlene's eyes darkened. " _Don't_ say apologize."

"You've got it!" said Mary.

"Great," said Marlene. "Because clearly a bouquet of bloody hyacinths makes up for destroying someone's independent study and then calling them a, well, you know…"

"Mudblood," said Lily dully, staring at the ceiling. Marlene and Parvana cringed.

Mary made a sympathetic face and patted Lily's hand. "I know this is so unfair, Lily, but he says he doesn't care how long he has to wait, he wants to talk to you and he'll sleep outside the common room if he has to —"

Lily let out an exasperated sigh. "He's so dramatic. He spent all year avoiding me, but now that I'm done with him, he won't leave me alone.  _Classic_  Severus. Eurgh." She groped for her wand on her bedside table. " _Incendio_."

Immediately, the flowers around her caught fire, and Mary leapt off the bed with a shriek. Parvana got up rather more gracefully, offering Marlene a hand.

"Nice," said Marlene, pulling out her own wand and sending a stream of water towards the smoking remains of the flowers. " _Evanesco_."

The ashes vanished, and Lily rolled over, eyeing Marlene imploringly. "Do I have to talk to him?"

"You can do whatever you want," said Marlene. "Let him sleep in the corridor, for all I care. It's no less than what he deserves."

Lily groaned. "I should tell him to go away. He really will sleep out there."

"You see?" said Parvana. "He's punishing himself to get back at you, that's not healthy, it's —"

"Okay, okay, point taken," said Marlene. She smoothed Lily's hair affectionately. "Look, if you wanna talk to him, then do it. But if he doesn't bugger off, you have my permission to turn him into a newt."

"A newt would be an improvement," grumbled Lily, but she stood up and pulled on her nightgown. "At least they're not  _dramatic_."

Sure enough, Severus was waiting for her in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, wringing his hands.

"I'm sorry," he said before she had even climbed out of the portrait hole.

"I'm not interested."

"Lily, please — I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. For all of it. For taking your potion, for —"

Lily's eyes narrowed. " _Taking_ my potion?"

"Stealing it, then," amended Severus.

"Ruining it."

"Yes," said Severus hastily. "That too. Ruining it."

"Great," said Lily. "You're sorry. Can I go back to my dormitory now?"

"Lily," he said, twisting the sleeves of his ratty robes. "As soon as I… when I called you — what I called you — I knew I had made a mistake, it was just… my friends were there, and —"

God, she should have expected this. Of course he was blaming what had happened on Mulciber. Heaven forbid Severus admit his behaviour was no-one's fault but his own. Lily inhaled deeply, trying to maintain her calm. "Excuse after excuse, Sev. I'm tired of hearing it, so you can save your breath, alright?"

"I'll do better," he said. "I'll tell them all I've changed my mind — I'll tell Mulciber…"

Lily laughed, though she didn't find the situation particularly funny. "You don't get it, do you, Sev?" she asked. "Our friendship is  _over_. You can tell Mulciber whatever you want, but I'm not going back to being mates with you.  _Ever_."

"You can't mean that," he said. "After all we've been through —"

"I do mean it," said Lily. "It's over. I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here."

"I was. I would have done. I'm so sorry for the potion, and I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just —"

"Slipped out, did it? Couldn't handle the peer pressure?"

"That's not — if you forgive me, I'll —"

"No," she said coldly. "It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years — none of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends, and all your plots and schemes —"

"I swear, I'll tell them —"

"You know," said Lily, her voice rising, "if someone referred to me as a Death Eater, I'd do them over. But you — you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?"

Severus looked at her imploringly, but she met his gaze without blinking. She wasn't going to let him wriggle his way out of this one. Finally, he dropped his head, ashamed.

"I can't pretend anymore," said Lily. "We both know there's a war coming. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine."

"Don't say that — you said you wouldn't fight..."

"I've changed my mind," she hissed. "My place in this war was decided by Death Eaters like you, Sev, and I will fight against all you stand for until my last breath."

"No — listen, I didn't mean —"

"—To call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?"

Severus' face started to wrinkle. God, he wasn't about to  _cry_ , was he? She climbed back into the portrait hole before he could speak.

As the painting swung shut, Lily pulled out her wand, aiming it directly at his chest. "I've sworn to Marlene that I'll turn you into a newt if you try talking to me again," she said. "So  _leave me alone_."

* * *

That Saturday, Lily spent the evening patrolling the castle for the last time as a fifth-year prefect. The corridors lay dark and quiet; most students were busy packing or lounging in their common rooms.

A suit of armour at the end of the second floor corridor tipped over with a crash, startling her. She pulled out her wand without a second thought, but before she could mutter a spell, Remus Lupin stepped around the fallen knight, holding his hands up.

"Sorry about that, Lily," he said pleasantly. "Awfully clumsy of me." He pointed his own wand at the suit of armour, righting it, and fell into step beside her. "Nice night for a patrol, isn't it? Mind if I join you?"

Lily shrugged. "If you want. I'm sort of in a mood."

"I've been known to get those myself from time to time," said Remus as they rounded a corner. "I find chocolate usually helps."

Lily smiled a little. "That's something I'm looking forward to having at home. Actual chocolate, the kind that doesn't move or scream or turn into something else when you take a bite of it…"

"Toblerone's my favourite," said Remus. "It never screams. Very predictable."

Lily glanced at him. "You've had Muggle chocolate?"

"'Course I have," he said. "My mum was a Muggle. I thought you knew that."

Lily suddenly couldn't breathe. It was as if an invisible hand had grabbed hold of her heart and squeezed. She and Remus were the only ones in their year to have lost parents; it was one of the reasons she'd always felt a sense of solidarity with him. How could she have forgotten his mum was a Muggle?"

"Shit," she said. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I didn't remember… that she was..."

Remus' eyes were murky green and soft, like moss at the base of a tree. "Lily. It's fine. You've had a lot on your plate recently — I don't exactly expect you to go around memorizing my family's blood status on top of everything."

"It's  _not_  fine," she said firmly. "It matters."

Remus looked a little surprised. "Why?"

"Because — it means you're a half-blood, like me. I mean, not  _exactly_  like me, because I'm a —" She was really not explaining herself well. "It's something we have in common, that's all. I shouldn't have forgotten."

Remus hummed a little. "I don't think you ought to put so much weight on blood status. I mean, for all intents and purposes, I might as well be a pure-blood. My mum died when I was eight, and even before she did, we were a magic household far more than a Muggle one. I don't think I even rode in a car — a proper, Muggle car — until I was on my way to Platform Nine and Three Quarters for the first time."

"Oh," said Lily, somewhat abashed. She'd thought their upbringings had been similar, with magic in the periphery. "I guess I assumed you grew up more or less the same way I did."

Remus shook his head. "My childhood resembled Peter's, or James', far more than yours. It had to."

Lily wasn't sure what he meant by that last bit. "I see."

They continued along the corridor without speaking, Lily lost in her own thoughts.

Remus broke the silence first. "I think you should be proud to be a Muggle-born."

"Yeah," said Lily sarcastically, "I'm very proud that a bunch of people I've never met hate me because I was born. So proud to be the butt of jokes, to be called names…"

"That's not what I meant," said Remus. "Being a Muggle-born is like knowing a foreign language, or something. It's an insight into a different culture that not many wizards have."

Lily bit her lip. "I'd rather only speak Magic and be done with it."

Remus looked at her for a moment, a thin line appearing between his eyebrows. "I'm sorry about Severus," he said finally. "What he did was wrong. There's no excuse for it."

To Lily's embarrassment, she felt her eyes filling up with tears.

"Oh, no," said Remus. "I'm sorry, Lily, I didn't mean —"

"No," she said thickly, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's just — I think you're the first person to apologize for what Severus did and mean it. I only — I wish he could have done the same."

Remus sighed deeply. "I wish so as well, for your sake." As they descended the stairs to the first floor, Lily furtively tried to dry her face and appear normal. Remus was watching his own feet as he walked; he appeared to be debating something with himself.

"Is there something you'd like to share?" she asked, bumping his shoulder with her own. She was determined to act as if she hadn't just burst into tears.

Remus rubbed his mouth and nodded. "Yes, actually. I don't know if you noticed, but Sirius and I had a bit of a falling-out this term. To make a long story short, he did something that hurt me very badly. It ruined my trust in him."

"Oh, really?" said Lily. "You're still mates, though, aren't you? You two looked pretty chummy in the common room last night, messing around with that expanding trunk of yours..."

"Yeah, we made up," said Remus. "I forgave him. But only because he genuinely apologised. When he said he was sorry, he meant every word."

"That's... "

"Surprising?" Remus gave her a wry smile.

"I mean… a little. Just knowing Sirius, he's not exactly in touch with his emotions, is he?"

"That's the understatement of the century," said Remus. "I told myself I'd only forgive him if he apologised. I figured it would never happen. I was as surprised as you were."

"I'm glad he did," said Lily. "You two are good for each other."

Remus tugged at his shirt collar and looked away from her. "Er — right. Anyway. I guess what I'm getting at is I've been where you are. I'm sorry you had to lose a friend this year, too."

He gave her a little smile and patted her twice on the shoulder. The gesture was so awkwardly boyish that she laughed and hugged him, her face pressing into his jumper. He'd gotten taller than her; when had that happened? After a moment, Remus hugged her back.

"You big softie," Lily mumbled into the wool of his jumper.

"They don't call me Remus 'Bleeding Heart' Lupin for nothing," he replied, disentangling himself from her. "Everything's going to be okay, Lily. I promise."

"Even if there's a war, and my best friend's on the other side?"

"Even so," said Remus. "You're worth ten of him, so keep your chin up."

"People keep telling me that. I —"

A rustle sounded from inside a nearby classroom, and Lily jumped. Remus pulled out his wand and raised his eyebrows at Lily. "Peeves the Poltergeist or a couple of shagging Ravenclaws, what do you think?"

"My money's on Peeves," she said. "Ravenclaws are too smart to make noise past curfew."

"Bold statement," said Remus. "It's up to us prefects to find out." He tapped his wand on the door handle. There was a faint click and the door creaked open.

Lily grinned and followed him inside.

* * *

The Induction took place at midnight on the last day of term. The centre of Dungeon Thirteen was conspicuously empty; the usual cushions, tea tables and chairs had been relegated to the sides of the room. At the far end of the dungeon, in three high-backed white chairs, sat Bella, Lucius and a third, heavyset Death Eater with tanned skin. They faced the Intents like a panel of judges.

"Please sit," said Lucius as the Intents filed in. He gestured at the row of chairs lining the opposite end of the room from the Death Eaters. Severus mentally berated himself as he took a seat between Mulciber and Avery, who were both wearing finely tailored black robes — he wished he had thought to wear dress robes. He wished he  _owned_  dress robes. One day.

"I trust you have remembered to bring your pledges," said the third Death Eater, whose voice sounded gravelly and vaguely familiar. "We will now accept them as a token of your dedication to the brotherhood."

"Evan Rosier," said Bella sweetly, "would you like to go first?"

"Erm, yes, ma'am," said Rosier. He stood up, adjusted his robes — his expensive, silken dress robes — and strode forward to stand in front of the judges. He pulled a small grey cube out of his pocket and levelled his wand at it. The cube grew larger and larger until Severus could see that it wasn't a cube at all, but a cage, containing —

"A Rougarou," said Rosier. "My father and I went hunting in America over the Easter holidays and we managed to capture one. I thought the Dark Lord might find some use for it."

Severus stared at the creature, repulsed. Its body was humanoid, but it had the head of a massive, slavering dog. It thrashed against the bars of its cage, its jaws open, but no sound came from its mouth. Its eyes were rolling madly, and yet — they looked almost human. Something about the irises.  _Like the eyes of the werewolf_ , Severus thought.

Lucius nodded appreciatively, and Bella let out a low whistle. "Impressive," she said. "If you'll allow us to confer…"

The three judges bent their heads together, whispering. Finally, Lucius turned towards Rosier. "We accept your pledge," he said. "Welcome to the brotherhood, Evan Rosier."

Lucius gestured towards Bella, who stood and held up a dark cloak with a large hood, which she draped over Rosier's shoulders. She fastened the silver clasp around his neck, which was in the shape of a skull with the tongue of a serpent. Rosier bowed low in front of the Death Eaters before returning to his chair, where he sat with his hood up.

Wilkes went next, presenting the judges with a string of shrunken heads which were capable of stealing a person's voice. After him came Rabastan Lestrange, whose knees shook the entire time, and then Mulciber, who had brought an assortment of valuable heirlooms from his family's vault. The third Death Eater looked especially pleased with Mulciber's pledge, and Severus suddenly realized why he seemed so familiar; he was the spitting image of Mulciber.

After Mulciber came Avery, who merely donated a decent amount of gold, insipid dullard that he was. Severus rather thought that Bella was fighting not to yawn throughout Avery's entire pledge.

Finally, Severus was the last one left. All the other Intents were wearing their hooded cloaks.

"I've got something a bit different prepared," said Severus, standing up. "Bella, if you would…"

Bella nodded and raised her wand. Three different pelts appeared between Severus and the judges, hanging in the air as if suspended by invisible tacks.

"This first hide," said Severus, touching the pelt on the far left, "is werewolf fur. Notoriously resistant to most forms of spell-casting. Bella, if you were to fight a werewolf, which spell would you use?"

"The Killing Curse," she said instantly, and the Intents laughed. Even Lucius let out a small chuckle.

"Let me rephrase that," said Severus. "Say the Dark Lord has tasked you with  _subjugating_  a werewolf. How would you do this?"

"That would be difficult," said Bella. "Werewolf fur is so magically resistant that most spells are ineffective. Even the Cruciatus will only tickle it."

"Would you care to demonstrate?"

"Absolutely," said Bella, drawing her wand. " _Reducto_.  _Stupify. Confringo._ "

The werewolf pelt absorbed each spell with ease; the Blasting Curse vanished into it with a muffled thump, and the fur swayed gently, as if moved by a breeze.

"See? Ineffective," said Bella, laying her wand delicately across her lap.

"Exactly," said Severus. "Hence the need for my spell." He slashed his wand through the air, like he was wielding a sword. " _Sectumsempra!_ "

There was a flash of light, and then the pelt lay in ribbons at his feet.

"Giant skin and troll hide are similar, aren't they?" continued Severus. He touched the two remaining hides that hung in the air. "Known to be resistant to magic. Well, no more.  _Sectumsempra._ "

The giant skin and troll hide rent open instantly, joining the werewolf pelt in pieces on the ground. Lucius' mouth was slightly open, and Severus allowed himself to feel a small rush of pride.

"This is my pledge to the brotherhood," said Severus. "We will not be defenceless against these Dark creatures."

"I see," said Lucius slowly. "Allow us to confer." He turned towards Bella and Mulciber's father, but their whispers lasted only a moment.

"Severus Snape," said Lucius. "It is unanimous: we accept your pledge. Welcome to the brotherhood."

Bella rose, beaming, to drape a cloak over Severus' shoulders. The cloak was heavy and well-made; it was likely more expensive than every article of clothing he owned combined. Bella reached for the clasp, but Severus put his hands over hers, and she stilled. He fastened the clasp himself.

As Severus returned to his seat, Lucius stood up. "You all have done well," he said. "As of tonight, you are Secondaries. Rabastan" —Lestrange nearly tripped over his robes in his haste to stand up— "tomorrow marks the end of your Hogwarts career. Would you like to fight on the front lines for us?"

"I would be honoured, sir," said Lestrange, bowing deeply.

"I will expect you at Malfoy Manor during the new moon, then," said Lucius. "As for the rest of you — the Dark Lord requires you to finish your schooling at Hogwarts. Over the summer, you will await further instructions. You are not to tell anybody you have become Secondaries. If you do, we will know, and the consequences will be… unpleasant. Do I make myself clear?"

Severus and the other Intents — Secondaries _,_  now— nodded, and Lucius smiled widely.

"Congratulations," he said. "You will not regret joining the brotherhood."

Bella stopped Severus in the corridor before he could follow his housemates back to the common room. "I'm leaving tonight with Lucius," she said.

"I see," said Severus. "So you won't be taking the train tomorrow?"

"Waste of time," she said loftily, adjusting her robes. "Like so much in this castle."

"I suppose," said Severus, looking carefully at her. She was still taller than him, but not by much. Though her hair added a few extra inches. "Thank you for getting those pelts for me. And for… well. For everything, I guess."

"It's been a pleasure," she said, giving him a small smile. "Everything gets better from here, Sev. Just wait till next year. Or, better, wait until you're out of school. You'll see."

"I suppose I will."

"Last thing," said Bella. She grabbed him by the shoulders and stared into his eyes. Severus felt a familiar sensation at the back of his mind, and he nearly smiled. Then he showed her what she wanted to see.

Memories of Lily flashed in his mind, tinged with nostalgia but not regret. Their recent row outside Gryffindor Tower, where he'd begged her forgiveness, where he swore he'd abandon the Dark Arts, didn't feature at all. Lily, it would seem, was a childhood sweetheart he had outgrown. Nothing more.

It wasn't the truth; but then, Bella wasn't looking for the truth.

"Good," she said, releasing him. "You're ready. I'll miss you, Severus."

_No, you won't._  Severus raised a shoulder, noncommittal. "Something tells me I'll be seeing you again."

* * *

Just like that, the term was over, and James was packing the last of his things into his trunk and saying goodbye to the other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He, Sirius and Peter managed to find an empty compartment at the back of the Hogwarts Express. Remus joined them after finishing his patrol of the train. "Snape's sharing a compartment with Mulciber and his gang," he said, taking a seat beside Peter. "They're all looking quite pleased about something or other."

"'Course they are," said James. "Snivellus called Evans a Mudblood in front of the entire school after putting her in the hospital wing. I'm sure they're patting themselves on the back while plotting who they can humiliate next."

"It's weird, isn't it?" asked Peter. "Having schoolmates who actually think What's-His-Name's doing the right thing?"

"Nah, it's not," said Sirius, stretching his long legs across the compartment. "Spend the summer with my family and you'll see. Plenty of people think Whoever-He-Is has got the right idea."

James recognized that Sirius was about to start ruminating on his upcoming summer with his terrible family, and he began to cast about frantically for a change of subject. "Er," he said, "y'know, I'd never really thought about it before, but  _do_  we know who he is? This great evil wizard everyone talks about in hushed tones, I mean."

"I haven't the foggiest," said Peter, and Remus shook his head.

"Isn't that the point?" said Sirius, seeming determined not to be pulled out of his foul mood. "If nobody knows anything about him, he's got plausible deniability. Maybe he's just a figment of our imaginations, and the Muggles are killing themselves off."

Peter snorted. "That's likely."

The compartment door opened, and Parvana tumbled in, followed by Marlene and Mary, who was dragging Lily by the hand.

"Budge up!" said Marlene, nearly falling into Sirius' lap. "Make some room, fellas, you know what time it is…"

Sirius groaned. "The Year in Review?"

"That's right!" said Mary brightly. "How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess," mumbled Peter, whose face was being squashed into the window as Mary squeezed into the seat next to him.

"We've got everyone, right?" asked Lily, counting heads. She seemed to skip over James' wild mop of hair entirely.

"I think so," said Parvana. She settled herself beside James, their thighs touching.

"Great," said Marlene, clapping her hands together. "Now we can start. Alright, fifth-year Gryffindors — show of hands, who here had an excellent year?"

Mary and James raised their hands immediately, followed by Peter and Parvana. After some consideration, Remus put his hand in the air as well. Lily's hands remained clasped in her lap, and Sirius was staring out the window, arms folded.

James kicked Sirius in the shins. "What do you mean, you didn't have an excellent year, you great lump? Just because you're mopey  _now_ , doesn't mean —"

"Three words," snapped Sirius. "The entire month of April. Sound familiar?"

"That's five words," said Remus. "Seven, if you count the second sentence."

Sirius began to make a rude hand gesture at Remus, but Marlene caught his arm.

"Not in the spirit of the game!" she said. "Let's focus here. So five of us had an excellent year, six counting me. Six over eight is…" she scrunched her face up, calculating. "Alright, that's an Acceptable, I'll take it. Next question: did we win the Quidditch Cup?"

"We did!" cheered Mary. Peter let out a loud whoop. James made a show of taking a bow, and nudged Parvana, who blushed as the rest of the compartment applauded.

"We certainly did," said Marlene, motioning for the others to quiet down. "For the first time in nearly a decade. All thanks to one inspired Captain and our brilliant Seeker. And myself, of course," she added as an afterthought. "So I'll give us full marks in the 'Quidditch' category. Next: did we win the House Cup?"

"Well," said Remus with the air of someone trying to head off a confrontation, "we weren't  _last_  —"

"Third place is our best yet," added James. "Let's not forget that."

Marlene and Mary rolled their eyes at each other, and Parvana sighed.

"I don't get it," said Lily. "Sure, you lot get loads of detentions, but you earn a fair amount of points, too. Not to mention  _we won the Quidditch Cup_. How did we end up  _third_?"

"Two words," said Sirius. He was still facing the window, but there was a slight smirk playing around his lips. "We got carried away with the expanding trunk."

"Technically," said Remus, "that's eight —"

"Oh, God," said Lily. "You didn't —"

"Unfortunately, we did," said James, pushing his glasses up his nose. "It turns out there is a limit to Undetectable Expansion Charms. And it turns out we found that limit. In McGonagall's office."

"Remus John Lupin," said Lily, rounding on him, "Don't tell me that racket we heard while on patrol —"

Remus did his best to look shamefaced. "I was charged with distracting the prefects on duty. Which happened to be me and you."

"I don't believe it," said Lily. "I thought you were spending time with me because you enjoy my company."

"It's not mutually exclusive," said Remus. "We had quite a nice night, didn't we?"

"Careful, Lupin, you'll make James jealous with that kind of talk," warned Marlene, and James reached across the aisle to shove her good-naturedly. "So third in the House Cup nets us a Poor, which is up from the Dreadful of previous years, so I'll allow it. Last category — and this is the one I'm most disappointed with you all on —  _romance_."

Sirius seemed to perk up at that. "I snogged Daisy Hookum. I did my part."

"You didn't  _snog_  Daisy Hookum," said Peter scathingly. "You closed-mouth kissed her. That's not snogging."

"Yeah, well, I would have snogged her, if I hadn't had to keep a lea—"

"Alright, alright," said James. "Look, Marly, I'm sorry we keep letting you down as far as romance goes. But there's been, er, extenuating circumstances that have prevented us from snogging girls to our heart's content for the past couple of years."

"I told you," Lily muttered to Mary, who giggled. "They're all snogging each other."

"Evans —" said James, but he stopped short when she glared at him. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. There was no point explaining why they'd been carrying leaves around in their mouths since the middle of third year. It would just complicate things.

"I snogged someone," volunteered Parvana. Her blush seemed to deepen as she spoke. "Bertram Aubrey. It was after Hufflepuff lost."

"A pity snog?" asked Sirius, raising an eyebrow.

"I still think it counts," said Parvana, and Marlene nodded.

"Peter and I snogged, too, after we won the Quidditch Cup," said Mary. Everyone turned to stare at her, Peter included. "You might not remember," she told him. "You'd had a lot of Sirius' drinks. But it happened. So I guess that counts."

"I… I remember," stammered Peter. "I just didn't think —"

"You've been holding out on us, Pete!" roared Sirius, leaning across the aisle to smack Peter on the shoulder. "I can't believe you've gotten more action than I have."

"Right," said Marlene, "so three snogs —"

"Two snogs and a closed-mouth kiss," corrected Remus, widening his eyes innocently as Sirius turned towards him.

"Another P, unfortunately," said Marlene, shaking her head.

"That's just dismal," said Lily. "We did better in second year. And we were  _twelve_ then."

"At least we did well in Quidditch," said Marlene. "I expect us to get the House Cup next year, though."

"Second place or bust!" cheered James, and Mary applauded.

Remus stood up, stretching. "I'll get us a round of Chocolate Frogs. Who wants to come with?"

The Hogwarts Express was pulling into Platform Nine and Three Quarters by the time they had all finished their Chocolate Frogs. Lily and Mary excused themselves to change into their Muggle clothes, and the other girls trickled out of the compartment as the train slowed to a stop.

James' mother and father were waiting for him partway down the platform, sitting on a bench. He spotted his dad's shock of white hair first, as untidy as his tangled curls, and felt a sudden peal of joy reverberating through his body. It was like someone had rung a bell in his heart. Beside his father was his mum, wearing a royal blue sari embroidered with an impossibly detailed version of the Milky Way. Thousands of tiny constellations wheeled across the silk, following routes he only vaguely knew from Astronomy. She looked beautiful. She always looked beautiful.

"Mum," he called. "Dad!"

His parents turned at the sound of his voice, and he ran towards them, not caring that he was sixteen and maybe too old to love them so much. He gave them both a long hug — his mother smelled warm, like vanilla — before turning back to say goodbye to his friends.

It was then that he realized that Platform Nine and Three Quarters was not as he'd remembered it. At the far end of the platform stood a crowd of parents dressed in Muggle clothing. They were surrounded by wizards wearing dragonhide leather with crimson robes draped over their shoulders.

"Dad," said James slowly, "are those —"

"Aurors," replied Fleamont Potter, nodding solemnly.

"Why are they here?"

"Protection, I'd assume."

Sirius caught James' eye and strolled over, hands in his pockets. "You've noticed too, eh?" he said, jerking his head towards the Aurors. "Clearly, we've missed something while we've been away. Maybe we should start reading the  _Prophet_."

"Maybe," said James. Lily had walked up to one of the Aurors, trunk in tow, and was asking him something. The Auror looked sceptical, and Lily produced a slip of paper from her bag for him to examine. After a moment, the Auror nodded and stepped aside. A plump woman with auburn hair pushed her way to the front of the crowd, and Lily threw her arms around her. As they embraced, the Auror watched them warily, one hand hovering over his wand holster.

"Protection," repeated James. "Dad, who are the Aurors supposed to be protecting? Them, or us?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" said his father, clapping a hand on James' shoulder. "Come on, son. Let's get you home."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So ends year 5! If you've made it this far, thanks so much for sticking with the story, and enjoy year 6!


	13. The Dog Days of Summer

Being able to turn into a dog at will had done wonders for Sirius Black's relationship with his family.

At the start of the summer holidays, after a particularly vicious argument with his mother, Sirius had stormed out of Grimmauld Place, transformed into Padfoot, and promptly shat on the troll-skin doormat.

Regulus found him later that evening in the park across the street, dragging his heels in the dirt as he sat in one of the swings.

"Mum's furious, you know," said Regulus. "That doormat was made from the hide of Bladbog the Basher. It's worth thousands."

"Can't prove it was me," said Sirius. "I don't own a dog."

"Right," said Regulus sarcastically. "I'm sure Mum has absolutely no idea who it might have been." He sat in the swing beside Sirius and twisted back and forth in the seat.

"I can't do this for another two months," Sirius said suddenly. "Listening to her tirades against Muggles every night over dinner. As if it isn't  _her_  fault we live in the middle of non-magical London instead of Stoke St Pure-blood."

Regulus nearly smiled. "It  _would_  be nice to discuss something new once in a while."

Sirius tipped his head towards the sky, which was awash with the last orange rays of the setting sun. "What do normal families chat about, d'you reckon?"

"Beats me," said Regulus. "The state of their neighbours' gardens, maybe?"

Sirius snorted. "Even if Mum wasn't a madwoman, I can't see her caring too much about number eleven's hydrangeas."

"That's a crepe myrtle," said Regulus, craning his neck towards the row of houses. "Hydrangeas grow on bushes."

"Look at you," said Sirius. "So cultured. No wonder Mum's so proud."

A flush crept up Regulus' pale neck. "What are you going to do about her? About both of them?"

"Dunno," said Sirius. "Considering offing myself. That'll show them."

"It's half a year until you're of age," Regulus pointed out. "Offing yourself seems a little premature."

"Fair point," said Sirius. "Think I'll go with Plan B, then."

And before Regulus could open his mouth to ask what Plan B was, there was a rustle at his side and Sirius vanished, replaced by an enormous, shaggy black dog.

Regulus practically jumped out of his swing. "Good lord, Sirius," he said, which was about the strongest language Sirius had ever heard him use. "Don't tell me you've gone and —"

The dog panted happily, tongue lolling out of its mouth, and then Sirius was stretching his long arms towards the sky, looking quite pleased with himself.

"Plan B," he said. "We'll tell them you got a dog. You were meant to surprise them with it over dinner, but your irresponsible older brother startled the poor beast, and it defecated on the doormat —"

"Not on your life," said Regulus. "That's not a  _dog_ , Sirius, that's a hellhound. They won't fall for it."

"Sure they will," said Sirius. "They can't say no to you, Reg. Tell them I've run away, and that Padfoot here is a very good boy —"

"Padfoot," repeated Regulus shakily. "You've named your dog self Padfoot."

"'Course I did," said Sirius, and though he was smiling, his eyes were dark. "Our dear sweet mum tells me daily I'm a walking nightmare who's brought ruin to the family name. What else would I be, except a Grim?"

* * *

Walburga Black was none too happy that Regulus had adopted a dog, but as Sirius had predicted, she wasn't able to say no to her youngest son. And so life at Grimmauld Place improved for Sirius.

He spent most of his time as Padfoot in Regulus' room, appearing in human form only for meals and vanishing up the stairs afterwards, before either one of his parents could bait him into an argument. Life was simpler as Padfoot; he didn't care much about anything that wasn't sleeping or eating. Most days, he was content to curl up on Regulus' bed while Regulus sketched in his journal or read a book.

Lazy days turned into weeks, which turned into months. Walburga and the dog maintained an uneasy truce, and Kreacher began passing it scraps.

All in all, Sirius and his parents might have passed a cordial, uneventful summer together, if only he hadn't met Dorcas Meadowes.

Truth be told, it wasn't even her he was attracted to, at first; it was her motorbike.

It was an unseasonably hot day in July, the kind of day where sweat seemed to soak his shirt the moment he set foot outside. Regulus had been puzzling over a Transfiguration essay for the better part of the morning, leaving Sirius utterly bored, so he decided to sneak out of Grimmauld Place, intent on trying a cigarette from the Muggle off-licence on the corner.

He hadn't even gone as far as the park when he saw the motorbike leaning against the kerb, all sleek black and gleaming chrome. He'd never seen anything like it before. They'd had a lesson on autos in Muggle Studies, but this was something different. It was like a broomstick with wheels.

"Take a picture. It lasts longer."

A girl about his age was standing in front of him, one hand on her hip and the other holding a large helmet. She had smooth, black skin and fluffy hair that framed her face like a halo.

"Is that yours?" he asked, gesturing towards the bike.

"Nah," said the girl. "I've got the keys, though." She pulled a set of keys out of the pocket of her jeans and jangled them at him.

Sirius did a double take. Not only was she wearing jeans, but she also had on a sleeveless top. Muggle clothes. He'd had taken Muggle Studies since third year, and Grimmauld Place was in the heart of Muggle London, but he'd never actually had a conversation with a Muggle before. He wasn't sure what to say.

"Seriously," said the girl. "Cool it with the staring. I'm considering buying you a camera."

Her voice brought Sirius out of his reverie; he laughed and ran a hand through his long black hair. "Wanna buy me a cigarette, instead?"

"Just one?" she asked, a slight crease forming between her brows.

Sirius shrugged. "Or as many as you want. I'm not picky."

"They generally come in packs of twenty, you know."

"Ten for me and ten for you," said Sirius. "Sounds like a plan."

"You can have all twenty," she said. "I don't smoke."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "A good girl, are you?"

"Hardly," she said. "They give you cancer."

"The cigarettes?"

She gave him a look. "What rock did you crawl out from under?"

"I should've mentioned," said Sirius. "I don't get out much."

"That's obvious," said the girl, gesturing at his clothes. She straddled the bike and turned to Sirius, who was still standing on the pavement. "Are you coming or what?"

Sirius grinned. "I thought you'd never ask."

She offered him the helmet as he settled behind her on the bike. "Protect that pretty face of yours," she said.

"So you think I'm pretty?"

"I think  _you_  think you're pretty."

"Well, I don't need the helmet," said Sirius. "I'm not that breakable."

The girl shrugged and pulled the helmet over her head. "It's your face." She turned the key in the ignition switch and the bike roared to life. It was the most beautiful sound Sirius had ever heard.

"Put your arms around me," ordered the girl, and Sirius complied. He tried very hard not to think about the feel of her hips, or her stomach, or her waist.

"What is this thing called?" asked Sirius in an attempt to distract himself. "It's not an automobile, right?"

The girl's helmeted head swivelled towards him. Sirius couldn't see her expression, but he knew she was giving him another look.

"Remember," he called over the rumble of the engine, "I don't get out much."

"It's a bike," she said.

"No it's not," he said. "I know what a bike is, they're made of hollow metal rods and have foot-pedals that turn the wheels."

"This is a motorbike," she said. "God, are you serious?"

He grinned.

She bought him a pack of cigarettes with a red stripe on the carton, along with a lighter for good measure, and then drove him back to the park. She laughed when he threw up after his third cigarette. He retaliated by pinning her to the ground and tickling her until tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Are you  _crying_?" he asked.

She pushed him off and sat up. "It's sweat."

"Girls don't sweat," he said.

"I'm not a girl," she said with a wink. "I'm a woman."

"That's too bad," said Sirius. "I don't date women. Only girls."

She stretched lazily. "I'm not bothered. I've already got a boyfriend."

"Do you, now. What's his name?"

"Robert," she said. "What's yours?"

"Sirius."

"Bullshit."

"Unfortunately, it's true. Spelt like the star, though. Not the adjective."

"I don't know if I believe you," she said.

Sirius shrugged. "I don't care what you believe. But it is my name."

"You can call me Dorcas," she said. "Spelled like Dorcas."

Sirius let out a laugh before he could stop himself. He held up his hands as she glared at him. "Sorry, sorry."

"Your name isn't any better, you know."

"Mine might actually be worse," said Sirius, giving her a lopsided grin. "Dorcas means 'gazelle' in Greek, did you know?"

"You speak Greek?"

"Yeah, some."

Dorcas sat up and lifted the hair off the back of her neck, fanning herself. "How do you know Greek but you've never seen a motorbike before?"

"There were a lot of gaps in my education."

"I can see that," she said. "Do you speak anything else?"

"Of course," said Sirius. "French and Latin are my best ones. And I can do a bit of Mermish. You?"

"Yeah, some Creole," she said. She folded her arms behind her head and flashed him a smile. "My parents are from the West Indies."

"That doesn't mean anything to me."

"Of course it doesn't." Her smile grew incredulous. "I don't suppose world geography made it into your curriculum."

"Now you're getting it," said Sirius. "Keep your expectations low with me."

They lay on their backs in the park until long shadows fell across the grass, the temperature cooling around them.

Dorcas stood and checked her watch. "I should go. Mum'll want me back."

Sirius got up languidly and offered her his arm. "I'll walk you to your motorbike."

"A gentleman," said Dorcas as she looped her arm through his. "At least your parents taught you manners if nothing else."

Sirius laughed loudly at that. "You have no idea."

"I still haven't decided if I think you're just taking the piss, you know." She swung her leg over her motorbike. "See you around?"

"I hope so," said Sirius.

Dorcas grinned. There was a small gap between her front teeth. "Me too. Night, weirdo."

* * *

Sirius spent the following week waiting for an opportunity to sneak out again. At last, he had a flash of brilliance which resulted in Padfoot having an accident on the oriental rug in the drawing room. This upset his mother and Kreacher enough that they tied Padfoot to one of the cast iron bars of the fence in front of the house.

As soon as his mother had slipped back into Grimmauld Place, Kreacher at her heels, Sirius transformed back into a human. He pulled the now-loose rope over his head and strode out the front gate, towards the park.

Dorcas wasn't there, so he began to wander the nearby streets, on the lookout for anything that so much as resembled a motorbike. After a half hour of searching, he heard a familiar rumble behind him. The noise grew louder and louder until Dorcas pulled up next to him.

"Need a ride, pretty boy?"

"Gladly," he said. He straddled the seat and put his arms around her waist. "Where are we going?"

"It's hot," she said. "I want ice cream. Do you know what that is?"

"Of course."

"Don't 'of course' me, Mr What's-A-Motorbike."

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

He could barely hear her response over the roar of the engine. "Never."

Once they reached the ice cream parlour, Dorcas batted her eyes at him. "Want to be a gentleman and treat me?"

"Ah," said Sirius. "Here's the thing. I have no money."

Dorcas pursed her lips, examining him critically. "Your fancy goth outfit says otherwise."

"I wear these clothes because my  _parents_  have money," said Sirius. "But they don't trust me with it."

"Fine," said Dorcas, pulling a handful of strangely-shaped coins from her back pocket. "But you owe me."

They ate their ice cream on a bench, thighs touching.

"I think I'm in love," announced Sirius as he bit into his ice cream cone.

Dorcas nudged him. "I have a boyfriend, remember?"

"Not with  _you_ , you vain bird," said Sirius. "With your motorbike. It's perfect."

Dorcas laughed. "I told you before, it's not mine."

Sirius nearly dropped the cone in his lap as a thought occurred to him. "Don't tell me it's your boyfriend's."

"God, no," said Dorcas. "It's my dad's." She paused for a moment, staring at her ice cream. "Used to be, anyway. He died last year." She said it casually, but her shoulders tensed as if readying for a blow.

"Merlin," said Sirius, scrambling for words. Emotional support had never been his strong suit. "I'm sorry."

"Me, too," said Dorcas. "I miss him."

Sirius had no idea how to respond to that. If one of his parents died, he had a feeling he wouldn't mind at all, and the thought twisted his gut uncomfortably. "What happened?"

"Lung cancer," she said. "He was a smoker."

"Merlin," said Sirius again. He pushed his hair back with a hand. "And I made you buy me cigarettes. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," said Dorcas. The corners of her mouth curved upwards. "I wanted to buy them for you. Plus you didn't even know cigarettes cause cancer."

"About that," said Sirius. A question had formed in his mind, and he wanted to phrase it delicately, despite generally not being very good at 'delicate'. "Is cancer… can your Healers not… I mean, your doctors, they can't fix cancer?"

Dorcas was frowning at him now. "Come on, weirdo. Don't joke."

"I'm not," said Sirius quickly. "Swear I'm not."

Dorcas regarded him a moment more, a crease between her brows, before responding. "I think they can cure some kinds. Not lung cancer, though."

"Oh," said Sirius. He was well and truly at a loss for words now. Wizards got cancer, too, but it was no more serious than a bad head cold. His own father had come down with a type of bone cancer a few years back, and the Healer at St. Mungo's had simply had him drink a foul-smelling purple potion every morning for a week. It didn't seem right, somehow, that Muggles should still be dying of cancer when wizards had potions that could cure it.

"Do you believe in an afterlife?" asked Dorcas, startling Sirius out of his thoughts.

"Of course," he said.

Dorcas blinked. "Really? You don't seem like the type."

Sirius shrugged. "I don't suppose you've ever seen a ghost?"

"Erm," she said. "Definitely not. Have you?"

"Yeah, loads," said Sirius. "They're kind of boring, though. You're not missing anything."

Dorcas' mouth was slightly open. "You are impressively weird."

"Remind me to invite you over sometime," said Sirius. "You'll see where I get it the minute you set foot in my house."

"No offence, but I hardly know you," said Dorcas. "It's a little soon to meet the parents, don't you think?"

Sirius barked a laugh. "Sneaking you into my house is different than letting you meet my parents. With any luck, you'll never have the misfortune of making their acquaintance."

"Really?" she said. "They're that bad?"

Sirius's grey eyes met her dark ones, and the laughter faded from his face. "Trust me," he said. "Whatever you're thinking, they're worse."

* * *

Dorcas gave him her telephone number after they'd finished their ice cream, and they began to meet whenever he was able to sneak out of Grimmauld Place. This became easier and easier as the summer went on, as both of his parents began to attend frequent meetings in Knockturn Alley. They spoke about these excursions in hushed tones around their sons, always using terms like 'the conference in you-know-where' and 'the donation to you-know-what'. One evening, Regulus managed to overhear their father on a Floo call in his study and whispered to Sirius that night that whatever they were doing involved substantial monetary contributions.

Sirius, for his part, was beyond caring what his parents did with their Galleons, so long as he was still able to spend time with Dorcas. She took him to the cinema to see his first moving picture outside of the old reels Professor Davis had shown during Muggle Studies, and Sirius was able to get them free popcorn by flirting with the boy working the concession stand. The next time they met, she bought him a stack of magazines featuring motorcycles and girls in bikinis, and they spent the better part of an afternoon flipping through them.

One hot weekend in August, Sirius' parents left for a meeting up north, which seemed to be hosted by the same people who organized the meetings in Knockturn Alley. Sirius wasted no time in locking Kreacher in an armoire before leaving Grimmauld Place to call Dorcas in a public telephone box.

"Come over," he said. "My parents are out. Give me an hour to get ready, though."

By the time she'd pulled up on her motorbike, Sirius had managed to undo most of the Muggle-Repelling Charms that lay on Grimmauld Place, though he still hadn't figured out how to make the front door visible to Muggles.

"This is going to sound weird," he said, "but you're going to have to close your eyes and I'll lead you inside."

"That's not nearly the weirdest thing you've ever said," replied Dorcas, peering at the row of houses. "Which one is yours?"

"Number eleven," lied Sirius. He covered her eyes gently with his hands before steering her through the garden and up the steps of Grimmauld Place.

Once inside, he lifted his hands from her face. Dorcas blinked in astonishment. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the huge portraits lining the hallway, whose occupants turned their heads to peer at the newcomer.

"I say," said the portrait closest to the front door — Pollux Black, Sirius' late grandfather. "You have some nerve, young man, bringing a girl like her inside this noblest of residences —"

"Sirius," said Dorcas slowly, staring at the painting, "what the — is that…"

"Right," said Sirius. He took her hand and pulled her towards the stairs. "Quick primer: magic is real, my family are wizards, and so am I. Those are magical, talking portraits of my lunatic ancestors. Any questions?"

"Bullshit," said Dorcas, but her eyes were wide as saucers as they ascended the stairs, climbing past the decapitated house-elf heads hanging on the wall. "This can't be real. I'm dreaming."

"Afraid not," said Sirius. They reached the topmost landing, and he shouldered open the door to his room. "What do you think?" he asked proudly. "I've been redecorating."

"Erm," said Dorcas. Her eyes wandered over the walls of Sirius' room, which were plastered with pictures from the magazines she had bought him. "Yeah, that's nice. Can we go back to the part where you said you were a  _wizard_?"

"Sure, hang on a moment," said Sirius. He picked up his wand from atop his dresser and pointed it at the door. " _Muffliato_." He turned back towards Dorcas, who was staring at him with her brow creased and her mouth slightly ajar. "My brother's in the next room," he explained. "Don't want him overhearing us."

"Did you…" she began. "Did you just do a spell? With your  _magic wand_?"

Sirius grinned. "Now you're catching on. Technically, I'm not supposed to do magic outside of school until I'm seventeen, but the Blacks have been flouting the rules and getting away with it for centuries, so no worries. That's because we're a pure-blood family — means we don't have any non-magical blood. Also, there are wizards who hate non-magical people like you. Including my family. Not me, though, because I'm not an idiot like the rest of them." He cocked his head at her expression. "Did you get all that?"

"Magic family," she said, sinking down slowly onto his bed. "Hate people without magic. Also, magic is real."

"Good girl." Sirius nodded his head. "You're getting it."

"I'm totally dreaming," said Dorcas, and she slapped at her cheeks.

"Wait, wait!" said Sirius, taking her hands in his. "None of that, now."

"How can you be magic?" she asked. "How can — how could I live seventeen years and not know magic was real?"

"It's because you're a Muggle," he said. "Non-magic. You're not supposed to know. It's illegal, actually."

"Oh, God," said Dorcas. "I'm going to be arrested by the wizard police."

"Nah." Sirius plopped next to her on the bed. "I've broken the law hundreds of times and gotten away with it. It's not a big deal. That spell I did on the door was technically illegal because I'm underage. Also, I can turn into a dog at will, and that's illegal too because I didn't register myself as an Animagus, but I'm still here, so…"

"You're mental," said Dorcas. "What happens if someone finds out you told me about magic?"

"Nothing. Nobody's going to."

"But what if they do?"

Sirius pulled gently on one of her curls. "In theory, they'd modify your memory. Erase it, sort of. Only your memory of magic, though!" he added at Dorcas' horrified look. "You'd just forget about magic. It'd be like you never came to Grimmauld Place. That's all."

"That's all," repeated Dorcas sarcastically. "Just a little mind erasing, no big deal…"

"It's not going to happen," said Sirius forcefully, taking her hand. "I won't let it."

Dorcas gave him the look he knew so well — half-amused, half-exasperated. "Why'd you even invite me over, Sirius?"

"To snog you senseless," said Sirius immediately. "Why else?"

Dorcas laughed. "Of  _course_. You just figured you'd bring me to your  _magic house_  and I'd be fine with it and then we'd shove our tongues down each other throats."

"Yeah, that was the plan, more or less."

Dorcas rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Okay. You win."

"Really?"

"Really," she said. "I might as well get something fun out of this."

"That's the spirit," said Sirius. He hooked his hand around the back of her neck and drew her closer. She closed her eyes obediently, and her lashes tickled his cheek. Her lips brushed his, full and soft, and then he was kissing her the way he'd been dreaming of all summer.

"You're sure Robert won't mind?" he murmured against her mouth.

She pulled away from him slightly. "Who's Robert?"

"Erm," he said. "Your boyfriend?"

Her laugh vibrated through his chest. "Robert doesn't exist. I made him up so you wouldn't try to get your leg over me."

"I see." Sirius fiddled with the edge of her shirt. "How's that working out for you?"

"Shut up, weirdo."

They moved from sitting on the edge of the bed to laying in the bed itself and were in the process of getting tangled in the many layers of silk sheets when the door opened. Regulus was standing in the doorway, a thick yellow envelope in one hand and a silver prefect's badge in the other.

"I knocked," said Regulus defensively as Sirius and Dorcas flew apart. "I — erm — my O.W.L.s came, and…" He trailed off, eyes on Dorcas.

"Reg," said Sirius warningly as Dorcas pulled the sheets up around her chest. "Reg, I can explain. Don't —"

"I've seen you with her before," said Regulus shakily. "She's — she's a Muggle, isn't she? And you brought her here? To our house?"

"Reg, this is kind of a private moment, if you haven't noticed, so if we could talk about this later —"

"I covered for you," said Regulus, speaking over him. "I never told our parents you were seeing a Muggle girl."

"Good." Sirius tumbled out of bed and snatched his trousers off the floor. "Because it's none of your business who I go round with —"

"But you brought her here!" said Regulus, voice rising. "Here! Do you have a death wish or something, Sirius? A Muggle! Into  _Grimmauld Place_!"

"I brought a HUMAN BEING into Grimmauld Place!" shouted Sirius. "Godric's mane, Reg, you're starting to sound like Mum —"

Regulus folded his arms across his chest. "You don't get it, do you? Don't you know Father put anti-Muggle enchantments all over the house —"

"—Which I lifted to get her in because I'm not an idiot —"

"Yes, you are!" said Regulus. "You didn't think to check your own room for charms, did you?"

Sirius froze, his trousers partway buttoned. Regulus continued. "Mum put a Muggle Detection Charm on your door because you're not half as clever as you think you are! Sneaking out all the time, plastering your walls with pictures from Muggle magazines, leaving those little papers from the cinema lying around everywhere — I could only cover for you so much, there were some things I couldn't hide, and now —"

A loud crack sounded in the hall downstairs, and Sirius went pale.

"Dorcas, you have to go," he said, plucking her shirt from off the floor and tossing it to her. "Now."

Dorcas's dark eyes were wide with fright as she pulled her shirt on. "Sirius," she said, getting out of bed, "what you said before — about the people who will erase my memory —"

"It's not going to happen," said Sirius firmly. He grabbed her by the hand and strode up to Regulus, who was standing in the doorway. "We've got to get her out of here before they see her. Father's office is connected to the Floo network —"

"There's not enough time for that," said Regulus, his head turned as he listened to the noises coming from downstairs. "They're already on the second floor, they'll see us the instant we leave the room —"

"A Portkey, then." Sirius raked his free hand roughly through his hair.

Regulus shook his head. "You know that won't work — not unless you thought to undo the Anti-Portus Hex on the house while you were fiddling with the protective enchantments."

Sirius swore loudly as the footsteps on the stairs grew louder and more insistent. It was hard to believe his mother and father alone could make that much noise between the two of them. Had they brought one of their less savoury friends back with them from the conference?

Regulus snapped his fingers in front of Sirius' face. "Think, Sirius! We don't have time for you to get distracted, you have to find a way to get her out of here, just  _think_  —"

Sirius let out a sudden laugh. "I've got it," he said. "KREACHER!"

The house-elf appeared in the bedroom with a crack, looking utterly horrified.

"A Muggle!" croaked Kreacher, wringing his bony fingers. "Young master has defiled the House of Black beyond Kreacher's worst nightmares, he has brought vermin into this most ancient bastion of blood, Kreacher weeps —"

"Shut UP!" shouted Sirius, and Kreacher fell silent, alternating between glaring at Sirius and casting looks of pure revulsion at Dorcas. Dorcas, for her part, was staring at Kreacher with a similar expression.

"Right," said Sirius. "Introductions. Dorcas, this is Kreacher. He's a house-elf. He's also completely swallowed my parents' pure-blood garbage, as you can tell, but he can't disobey a direct order. Kreacher, this is Dorcas. You are not to speak to her."

"Pleasure to meet you," said Dorcas weakly. Her nose wrinkled as if she had just smelled something very bad. Kreacher closed his eyes, apparently in pain from being spoken to by a Muggle, and began to wail.

"Kreacher," said Sirius, raising his voice, "you are to take Dorcas home. You are to make sure she gets there safely and without drawing the attention of any Ministry employees. You are not to tell anyone, including our parents, anything about Dorcas, including where she lives. You are to return to me when I am alone, and I will modify your memory so that you forget that she even exists."

Kreacher's wails rose to full-blown hysterical sobbing. Sirius stared at the house-elf with disgust before turning to Dorcas. "I shouldn't have brought you here," he said. "I'm so sor —"

The door of the bedroom flew open with a bang, sending all of the room's inhabitants hurtling forward. Kreacher dived forward and grabbed Dorcas's arm. She shrieked, but the sound cut off abruptly as they vanished with a crack.

"WHERE IS SHE!" roared Orion, Sirius' father. He pointed his wand back and forth between Sirius and Regulus.

"She's here," said Walburga Black. She stepped into the room, followed by a large, hulking figure wearing a hooded cloak and a mask. "I felt the charm burn, I know he brought her in here —" She froze at the sight of Sirius' unmade bed.

Orion followed her gaze. His haughty features contorted with fury. " _You_ ," he growled, turning on Sirius. "You  _dare_  bring Muggle filth into MY HOUSE? You dare let her enter under MY ROOF?"

"Oh, spare me," spat Sirius. "Don't pretend like you're surprised, not if you stuck a bloody Muggle Detection Charm on my door —"

"You shall not speak to your father that way!" shrieked Walburga. Her hand trembled as she pointed her wand at Sirius. "No son of mine —"

"I AM NOT YOUR SON!" yelled Sirius.

Walburga was startled into silence. Sirius pointed his wand back and forth between his parents. "I've had it with this pathetic excuse for a family. I'm leaving."

Walburga halted, her grey eyes wide. "You— you can't leave."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "What're you going to do, curse me? Go ahead and try."

Orion lunged for Sirius, who ducked out of the way. The hooded figure in the doorway raised his wand, and a jet of red light streaked past Sirius, burning him as it grazed his shoulder. Walburga screamed and aimed her wand at Sirius, her hand shaking wildly.

Sirius hunched over, and his form distorted until he was replaced by an enormous black dog.

Padfoot snarled, then bolted for the door, knocking Regulus onto the bed. At the door, the hooded figure raised its wand again, but the dog leapt and closed its massive jaws around the figure's neck. The hooded man made a gurgling sound, toppling backwards; the dog scrambled over his body and raced down the stairs.

A streak of light grazed the fur on Padfoot's back and blasted into the wall, sending the decapitated head of Pimsley the House-elf tumbling down the staircase. The dog didn't slow.

It barreled into the drawing room and threw itself into the window, which shattered upon impact. The dog yelped in pain as it flung itself out the window, shards of glass slicing through its fur.

Sides heaving, Padfoot bolted down through the garden of and vaulted the cast iron fence. The dog landed heavily, and drops of blood spattered the pavement under its paws as it raced to the park across the street.

Halfway across the park, the dog's frame elongated into the form of a lanky teenager in a flat-out sprint for his life. Sirius skidded to a halt, panting, at the far end of the park. There, propped up against the kerb, was Dorcas's motorbike.

Sirius hesitated, but only for a moment. Then he clambered atop the bike and tried to switch on the ignition. He jangled the throttle and pushed on the pedals. Nothing happened.

Sirius swore loudly. He needed a key, didn't he?

There was a series of faint pops behind him, followed by shouting. Flashes of wandlight illuminated the park.

"Work, damn you," growled Sirius. He kicked the motorbike, which remained stubbornly silent. The yells were growing louder. "Come on, come  _on_!"

A jet of red light narrowly missed his head. Desperate, Sirius drew his wand and brought it down on the handlebars of the motorbike. A shower of golden sparks emitted from his wand, and the bike roared to life.

Sirius jerked forward as it trundled down the street."Oh, good — right, that seems about the speed limit, there…"

But the motorbike continued to pick up speed until it was zooming down the street on its own volition. Sirius gripped the handlebars tightly as the bike blew through crossroads and traffic signals, ignoring them entirely. Faster, impossibly fast, no Muggle vehicle could accelerate like this —

Sirius' skin pulled back from his face, his surroundings a mere blur. He shouted as the bike barreled towards a line of cars stopped at a crossroads. He was going to crash —

With a deafening roar, motorbike reared, and then he was soaring over the cars and past the traffic signal, which was still blinking red. He rose higher, higher, until he was sailing over rooftops and above tall, narrow clusters of buildings.

Sirius let out a whoop and pulled on the handlebars. He urged the motorbike upward until Grimmauld Place vanished among the winking lights of the boroughs far below. He was free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yahoo, year 6 is finally finished! Took me long enough, didn't it?
> 
> Updates will be weekly on Wednesdays. This year is a bit plot-heavy :)
> 
> A couple of warnings for year 6: non-explicit references to child abuse, bullying/physical assault, and characters dealing with the aftermath of trauma.
> 
> Of course, I'd love to hear any thoughts you have in a comment or review! Enjoy!


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